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Wolfgang wrote this story last week. It just came to him, he said, and so he wrote it down.

Bob's Bad Day

Bob's day started as normal. He woke up at 6:30 to his alarm clock, showered and went into the kitchen. He poured what was left after the rat infestation in his box of Frosted Flakes into his bowl. While Bob ate slowly with his solitary spoon, he regretted not having any milk. On his way out of the apartment, he brushed spiders off his suit and noted the frayed notice of foreclosure pinned to the door.

It took Bob 15 minutes to scavenge a taxi fair by way of digging through his pockets and begging. By the time he reached his office, it had started raining, and Bob had forgotten his key. It was another half hour until another of his co-employees arrived. Bob reached his cubicle and sat in his cold, hard chair. He opened his briefcase and its soaked contents poured out onto his desk.

Bob turned to start typing when he remembered his computer had broke and began to write all of his memos by hand. He was halfway done with the second memo when his pencil broke. He reached for another, only to find that that had been his last. Bob rose and walked all the way to the other side of the office to sharpen his pencil. It was almost time for lunch when Bob remembered the pen in his pocket.

Not being able to afford lunch, Bob continued to work. Slowly but surely, the out-basket filled and the in-basket emptied. Finally, at 8:00, Bob triumphantly placed the last memo in the out-basket. On his way out the door, Bob was stopped by an executive. The man told him that he had received Bob's note, and informed him that a promotion was in order and gave Bob enough money for a taxi fare and a McDonald's dinner.

Bob reached his apartment with the idea of just going directly to bed. He showered, brushed his teeth and got into bed. Bob was slowly drifting off to sleep when a man burst through the door and shot Bob. Bob was alive long enough to see the man take all his belongings and evacuate through the window. Then everything went dark.

And there you have it. Please send whatever you can for my son's future therapy and/or his defense lawyers.