At the Community Center

route9litmag:

by Jane Dykema

image

from Small Print by Justine Basa

I get a job at the community center. A man named Michael interviews me and I have High Hopes because of his dreadlocks and hands like starfish and the way he seems to listen (by nodding) and the things he seems to value (the kids’ safety and happiness) and we shake hands and he makes fun of my suit and even though it’s a summer job I think, maybe this is what I’ll do Forever.

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This was posted 9 years ago. It has 46 notes.
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    This story scratches my “why aren’t there more text messages in fiction” itch.
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