Teddy stood, brushing the sand and dust off his clothes.
He lodged the large, uncut opal into the top of the headstone.
“Ay, da. I buried ya where the paper told me.”
Teddy’s father spent most of his life in the holes next to where he now laid. His fortune was in opals, a dangerous job with a great reward. The cancer treatments, though, depleted that fortune and left it all gone. By the time Teddy showed up, it was too late. He died.
“I’ll be back soon, da. I have to close this deal on oil with the Singaporeans.”
(Author’s note: I am working to get back to weekly writing. Work just sucks the energy out of you. So take this, and enjoy!)
This Used To Be My Playground
by Miles H. Rost
“I remember making Gurgles the Clown throw up outside of “The High Roller”!” “He threw up on that karen, didn’t he?” “Ha! Now I remember! She was really riding us all day.” “Can’t believe it’s gone now.” “Yeah, Once the virus hit, everything fun went away. Can’t go anywhere people might congregate” “I guess the karens got back at us, after all.” “Yep. They want us all to be miserable.” “Did you hear what they will build on the site?” “Probably another big box store.” “That’s usually their go-to, isn’t it?”
“Miserable and compliant. That’s all they want us. Period.”