Mud slinging

I’ve written a new short story called Mud Slinging. It begins:

Jim took a deep shuddering breath. It was a beautiful day to be alive. Sun was streaming over the trees at the end of the park and sparkled off the small pond. Birds were flying low over the neatly cut lawns in search of insects and the puddles left by the recent heavy rain were beginning to recede.

Today was a special day. He had an appointment for a job, the first in months. He straightened his tie and brushed a fleck of dust from his one remaining suit. After three years out of work, it was only his meticulous care for his clothes that kept him from becoming a tramp… (read more)

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