Degradable

The hum of industrial strength air-conditioning keeps the insane summer heat at bay.

Tristram sweats anyway. He needs this sale and has been nervous all morning for a meeting that seems to be over before it really got started.

“These cups are 100% biodegradable, fossil-footprint responsible.”

“Can you beat a thousand for seventy-eight,” The fat-manager with a shiny pink scalp, dressed in an over starched white oxford-button down, asks with a smirk. His little name badge, hanging from the tip of a monstrous left tit, says assistant-manager.

It might as well say gatekeeper.

Tristram dips his chin and shakes his head no.

The fat-man laughs derisively, turns from the table he did not even sit down at and walks away with his pants riding up into his buttcrack.

Tristam curses, wishing his brother-in-law had never convinced him to invest in his paper-cup business.

He stands to make his next appointment across town, his thoughts returning to the idea of an insurance scam.

A slip and fall.

A nice little warehouse fire.

Suicide by cop.

 


FFfAW Challenge-Week of April 25, 2017

 

Published by Bryan Aiello

Raised on Florida’s Gulf Coast, Bryan served in the Army, graduated from the University of South Florida and now calls Brooklyn home. For more of his fiction and updates on his podcasts, follow him on Twitter: @bryaiello and Reddit: /u/voyage_of_roadkill.

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