Archived Issues
| Volume 1, Issue 2, May 31, 2006 | |
| The Impresario by Hank Quense |
Rhonda Minestra walked into the office, and after shutting the door, grinned and bounced on her toes. "Sid, you'll never guess what my tarot cards said last night." Her uncle and boss, Sid Glower, looked up from a report. "You're only forty-five minutes late. What brings you into the office so early?" "The cards predicted...Visitors!" "I hate it when you talk in capitals." "I bought this on the way to work." Rhonda pulled a small digital camera from her large purse. "I'll take pictures of these...Visitors. That way I'll have proof to back up my story. I also have a notebook and a pen in my purse, so I'm all set." Sid walked to the coffee pot. He was shorter than Rhonda and plumpish to her slimness. Mostly bald, he wore a tan wash-and-wear suit that needed to be unwrinkled. His eyeglasses perched on the end of his nose. Rhonda sat her desk. "I wonder who it'll be. Time-travelers? Aliens? I think aliens would make a better story." "I wish they would all stay away." Sid returned to his desk with a mug of coffee. "Whenever they show up, Earth or our history is threatened. And they never pay for our services." "Well, I'm gettin' paid this time. By a tabloid." She turned the camera on and scanned the small office through the LCD screen. Read the entire story:
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