Metrosphere 2004-2005

click

by Clayton Woullard

 

 

“I’m going to have to let you go,” the tall man said, clicking his favorite pen.
“Was it the quarterly? Sir, I promise—”
“No, you don’t understand.”
“Did I say some—”
“No.”
The clicking stopped.
“Then wha—“
Blood flooded his desk as the tall man said plainly,
“You ate my sandwich.”