Intercepts

by T.J. Payne

Someone once told him that it was easier to get a bill passed by Congress than it was to get an equipment authorization passed by the Company.

duct tape and twine were cheaper and easier than dealing with the crippling bureaucracy.

Morale is low and sinking like an iron turd.

After the divorce, Riley and her mom moved to Linville, a few hours away. Her parents promised her the distance wasn’t too far, especially with social media. But to a middle-schooler, it quickly became insurmountable. Somewhere in a drawer back at her mom’s home, she had a small box with a collection of half-heart friendship necklaces… and friendship rings… and friendship letters. They all promised the then seven-year-old Riley that her childhood friends would be her friends forever. What a load of bullshit. There was no one big, climactic moment that symbolized the end of the friendships. No fight, no jealousy, no nothing. Just a slow-drying cement around Riley’s ankles that prevented her from putting forth the effort to bridge the growing gaps. She stopped inviting those old friends over, and no one seemed to mind.

“I’d like to report that my workmate is old and enfeebled.”

when the mind loses one sense, it compensates with the others.”

It crossed his mind that the squeaking echo of his shoes on the linoleum, a sound which he had conditioned himself to detest through the years, didn’t exist at his current gait and speed. Perhaps the key to making the squeak go away was simply to slow down. Take one’s time.

“Physical pain is fleeting. The mind closes it off, as best it can. But some pain runs deeper. Some pain lingers. It sticks to you in the darkness, and the mind cannot push it away. Pain such as the pain of watching your family suffer. And the pain of knowing they suffered because of you. That pain will never leave,”

she felt less lonely when she was by herself.