Contributor: George Sparling
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The Man first entered through my nose after he had waited outside the doctor’s office in his truck. I had seen him from the waiting room’s window for 30 minutes, then had a procedure done, and 60 minutes later, The Man’s truck was still parked outside. Clearly, as I soon found out, he was the culmination of extensive surveillance developments, a thug utilizing advances in neuro-technology. My paranoia proved true.
I walked past his empty truck and found him smoking on the sidewalk. The Man, scrawny, in his mid-fifties, casually sucked nicotine, then blew it my way as I jabbed my four-pronged aluminum cane at him. “Get the hell away from me. I’ve had enough of you working-class chumps thinking you’re civic-minded now that you get paid by the cops to track me.” The Man said, “I’m only doing my...
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Author:
George Sparling
