Short Stories written by MaryLou Morning
1,200 words or less
Various topics about Real Estate issues
Click title to read full story
Russ was standing by the Family Room bookshelf when two things happened precisely at the same instant: the doorbell and the house phone spoke up. Indecision gripped the 40-something man in the causal khakis, grey bowling shirt, and loafers; and he hesitated.
“You’re not very aggressive today, Isaac,” Russ stated the opposite of the obvious, but the trick failed. He glared at his brother; sitting in the bright shade across from him under sunny, hot skies at the community park, playing chess on one of those heavily-scarred picnic benches.
The sales graph blazed forth onto the 16×9 fifty-two-inch wall-mounted Samsung and replaced the ‘computer blue’ desktop screen that had been staring at them since the meeting started. The colorful image of the company’s fiscal health held for just a heartbeat; and then, in a blink, collapsed back down into the taskbar. Groans. A cleared throat.
“I’d be having a cigarette right about now,” Marvin mused as he reached into his back pocket. “If I still smoked.”
“Instead, you’re having those,” Luis already had his money in his hand. “Two, please.”
Marvin Thomas, Russ’s father and a home improvement connoisseur, just laughed and fished a Hamilton from his monogrammed leather Nautica wallet; a gift from his grandkids.
“That doesn’t sound right,” Russ Thomas; skeptical, but interested. He took a quick peek at his coffee cup, then set it on the counter-top. The barista noticed and nodded.
“No; it’s true. Fully sixty percent of homes are underinsured according to Marshall & Swift.” Brent Tarleton, ace stockbroker and Russ’s financial advisor, knew his facts and his sources. “They’re the experts in the building-costs analysis.”
Suddenly injected into the quiet murmurs of the gathered neighbors, crashing glass; flying prisms of splinters embedded into Phil’s leg, Gerri’s screechy scream, Theresa sucking air in, Russ gasping out.
“Good morning, sir. Folks here for the DIY class?” David Ashton; full-time security guard, part-time handyman. Late-thirties and athletic, he was no stranger to a hammer…or a sidearm. His easy smile and confident demeanor had a welcoming effect that this home improvement store management loved.
The voice booth intercom clicked open with a brief gush of static; Isaac heard the voice of his engineer in his ears from the Control Room, tinny and thin in the slating channel.
“We’re set, Ike.” Audio recording engineer ‘One -Take’ Jake Sokolov.
“You guys picked a great time to visit Vancouver, Uncle…Russ.” The black 2014 Audi A6 bumped across a set of temporary steel plates as McConachie Way – escaping the Sea Island confines of the VIA – met the Arthur Laing Bridge that spanned this Arm of the Frasier. “Lots of things to see and do now.”
“Alright; I’m not losin’ this time. Five-ball, corner pocket.” Russell Thomas leaned into the shot, adjusted his stance and formed the classic index-to-thumb circular finger-bridge with his left hand; his right piloting a McDermott Model G324; the cue, balanced and crafted by a master. The full length of the table-bed lay before him; it was a corner-to-corner cross-table shot.