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Chapter Thirty-four

last update Last Updated: 2020-12-28 07:32:59

       Sam let out a rile sigh. Why now? Charles was the manager of the auto mechanic garage who took appropriate care of anything and everything that goes wrong in their cars. After he had put a few calls through to him the day before, Charles claimed his schedule was occupied for the next two days but promised to come by the weekend. Yesterday he had expected him, he didn’t show up and today, when he had forgotten he even sent for him, he shows up. Just when he was in the middle of something. He groaned out, exchanging looks with Theresa whose cheek had become pink. It was apparent she was embarrassed Margaret had caught them making out. Something he couldn’t care less about. A cheeky smile tugged at his lips as he watched her button her shirt all the way to the top. And he gave her a ‘this isn’t over’ look before following Margaret down to the living room where Charles sat patiently, awaiting him.

“Charles.” He called unethusiastically o

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    A month later... Sam was in the agency going through the just printed Cloud newspaper for the next day. He had taken over as the director at the agency and still managed to keep up with his work as the head Publicist despite Margaret's advice to promote one of the publicist in the agency or employ a new one to relieve himself of that much work. He would always tell her that he'll take it into consideration, but in the end, he would do nothing about it. He used work to cloud his thoughts from everything that had occured in the past month. And well, it somehow helped. He was working late again when his phone rang. Without glancing to see the call ID, he reached for the phone in the drawer, from where he had dumped it earlier and placed the phone on his ear, cradling it between his chin and shoulder as he waited for the caller to speak. "Goo

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  • Wrenched   Chapter Thirty-seven

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    Her reflection on the mirror was more or less how her life was at the moment. Everything seemed to have become bleak. Still trying to date the day things went west, she was standing in front of the seven inch mirror wearing a black bra and a pair of blue jeans. Her hair which had just been blow dried, her lean body, her pale white skin – her head tilted sideways, to the left and to the right as her eyes scrutinized her body. Not only did she look different, she felt different. Her fingers trailed her stomach to her side; to the scar left by the bullet that was taken out. Turns out, leaving Robert's house did not stop those nightmares. They kept happening anytime and every time her eyes fluttered close, even for just a moment. She was always reliving the moment her entire life flashed in front of her; the pistol that was pointed to her face making her entire body tremble for fear that any moment, the trigger will be pulled, and when she was shot, the bullet that pierced

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  • Wrenched   Chapter Forty One

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  • Wrenched   31

    Point of view — Robert JohnsonThat explained everything. It was not a mistake after all. It was James who. . . somehow, managed to get us invited to the award show. It was beyond elating to know that I would be in the same room as the biggest writers and Publicist in the city and states beyond. And of course if we want to fit in, we must also look the part. Which would mean getting a new suit for the occasion. I had only two suits and they were all something in between raggedy and well enough and those weren’t good enough for the award show. I sighed. As James would say, “a small price to pay for salvation.” I made a mental note to contact the seamstress in the weekend. But for now, I had to get ready for the first day at my new job. First official day, I mean. Other than the very unnecessary physical interview and the tour around the office, I had very little work to do yesterday. And that work was only to make copies of documents for my new colleagues

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    Point of view — Robert JohnsonThat explained everything. It was not a mistake after all. It was James who. . . somehow, managed to get us an invite to the Writhe of Writers Awards show. It was beyond elating to know that I would be in the same room with the biggest writers and Publicists in the city, and states beyond. And of course if we want to fit in, we must also look the part. Which would mean getting a new suit for the occasion. I had only two suits and they were both something in between raggedy and well enough; those weren’t good enough for the award showI sighed. As James would say, “a small price to pay for salvation.” I made a mental note to contact the seamstress in the weekend. But for now, I had to get ready for the first day at my new job. First official day, I mean. Other than the very unnecessary physical interview and the tour around the office, I had very little work to do yesterday. And that work was only to make copies of docu

  • Wrenched   29

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  • Wrenched   28

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