by Wade Harris
Got invited to some kid’s birthday party.
Well, the neighbors across the street.
They had free beer.
Modelo.
Dug through the garage.
Found an old Harbor Freight starter kit.
He’s old enough to learn a wrench. Good gift.
Doesn’t matter.
I walk over there, kid comes up, “Wow wow Mr. Wade is that for me?! Wow, thank you! I wanna play the drumset again too.”
Showed the kid how to play drums the other day. Good kid.
Bunch of people there with other gremlins.
Mainly annoying housewives and tech bros.
I see this one guy.
Kinda familiar.
How do I—
Oh.
Jail Times.
Unholster my weapon—iPhone.
Browse the net—Bullseye.
Mugshot acquired in 30s.
“Indecent exposure to underage child.”
Scan network.
Printer found.
Not secure.
Never is.
Hit print. 30 copies of his face and charges.
Grab three beers.
Slip out.
Leaned back on my porch.
15 minutes later.
Screaming.
Fleeing.
Light a smoke.
Think I’ll watch The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly tonight.
****
Wade Harris is a Texan banging out tales from his hot-rodded IBM Wheelwriter in the garage. His work has appeared in numerous literary magazines. More: @TheWadeHarris • substack.com/@wadeharris