15 Minutes

< Previous | Next >

"I'm going to be late," Jerry moaned, plopping down on the curb and burying his head in his hands.

"Once every five years or so won't get you fired," his brother Bill replied philosophically, leaning against the side of Jerry's pickup. "Specially since you're only barely going to be late anyway."

Jerry looked up. "My pay'll be docked, though," he said morosely. "Fifty bucks, plus the repair bill, and me with Loretta at home wantin' to put in a new kitchen." He assumed his earlier position. "Knew I should've gotten the truck serviced."

"Look," reasoned Bill, "Ernie said he'd have the tow truck out in fifteen minutes, right? Now you're damned lucky to have broken down close enough to the shop that he can grab you so quick, so at least look at the bright side, huh? And fifty bucks isn't so much anyway."

With a heavy sigh, Jerry rose and kicked idly at one of the tires. "He said fifteen minutes when you called?"

"Yep."

"And how long's it been now?"

Bill looked down at his watch. "Six minutes."

Jerry slumped down on the curb again. "Loretta'll have my hide," he mumbled to himself.