Three twenties, soft as toilet paper, folded in his pocket. One left over from the poker game, two filched from Gina’s purse in an early morning fishing expedition. He had gotten lucky. Often there was only the baby’s soother, a nub of eyeliner and a mittful of change. Dom willed his phone to ring. Willed his younger brother, Sal, to call, tell him when he could expect the coke. Sixty bucks was coming up a little short but he hoped Sal would cut him a deal. Family discount and all that. “Hey, beautiful dreamer! The boss is looking for ya.”
Photo credit: Seth Restaino
I LOVE this! It is so sure-footed and evokes a whole life in just a few minimal strokes. The essence of a micro-story. Great work!
But this story has nothing to do with a chef or even that pensive mood that the man in the photo seems to be in.