A Note in the Lobby

This is a nice story. I haven’t detected any deeper meaning or significance to it, but that is part of its charm. It’s a slice of life that is light-hearted and hopeful (the narrator is hoping to encounter the waifish girl again), making it a brief relief from the proverbial “daily grind” (an expression that seems more and more descriptive, accurate, and to the point as I age), which is of increasing importance in these stressful time.

Spelk

by Jane Hertenstein

“It has come to our attention that certain residents are not curbing their dog.”

I don’t have a dog, but I do have a parakeet. So I wondered if this message was for me. After affixing my galoshes and screwing on my thermal gloves, I pushed out through the revolving doors. What does it mean to curb?

At the web design startup where I work, Carrie had a fit because someone (again) ate something out of her plastic tub in the lunchroom fridge. Not that her rant referred to me.

I was curious, so I asked her what she was missing. She glared at me. More like a scowl. Not sure the difference — only that I brushed crumbs out of my mustache and scurried back to my cubicle.

When I returned home after a long day at the office — okay, not that long, only about…

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