(Author’s note: Still in the process of finding a job, but I am getting a bunch of looks. Hope to have something soon, even if it’s temporary. Gotta make money to spend money. Here’s tonight’s fictioneers!)
by Miles H. Rost
“Get me outta here.”
Carl Baker wanted to go home. He wanted to be with his horses, apricot orchard, and all the things he loved.
His wife wanted to see the Big City. Rockefeller Center was the bullseye for the trip.
“Dang, honey. That building’s big.”
“It’s said that the family built it, then they sold it off.”
“Well, they kinda had to. After all, it was my family that cut them off in the depression.”
His wife looked at him strangely.
“Your family knew the Rockefellers?”
“We owned the bank. The Rockefellers were city slickers. Can we go now?”