Chicago. March 17th, 1960
Mrs. O’Toole set the newspaper down on the table beside his steaming mug of coffee and Doran glanced at the headlines. Something about three women from Riverside being murdered and Eisenhower endorsing Nixon. He turned away from the paper with a sigh. Continue reading “Not Quite Done”
He’d seen her coming down the hall that morning, saw the invitation in her eyes. She’d been flirting with him for months and he’d done nothing to stop it.
He’d been happily married for eighteen years with a beautiful wife and two kids. He should have been content in his life. He should have turned down the lunch invitation. He never should have ordered an alcoholic beverage. He hadn’t had a drink for nine years. He’d never cheated on his wife. Continue reading “Playing with Fire”