by Joni Abilene
I have a story up for your reading pleasure and it’s only 99 cents. In the old days that’d buy you a lot of stuff. I think it’s a pretty good price for a short story, don’t you? It’ll get you through another miserable Saturday, or Sunday, or if you’re a slow reader, the next year. Take your time. Nobody’s got a stopwatch to your head, right? Imagine that, someone following you around with a stopwatch. Timing your morning coffee, your morning toilet run, your morning jog, or attempted Yoga position—cats watching from the couch—sex, your afternoon scarfing of Snickers bar and then a few carrots to make it even. Pretty soon you’ll see a digital face on everybody’s face. When you die, they’ll say, God Bless old speedy. Then they’ll time your burial, and your reincarnation. But, yeah, 99 cents is steal, my friends. However, on my side of things, 99 cents is a ripoff.