Promulgate the Abstraction as an Interesting City Relief
Masterson’s
first job as a temp was passing out flyers on Akai Street . He had a cold, it was raining, and he felt as
miserable as he ever had in his life, perhaps worse.
“I’ve
reached rock bottom,” he thought, pushing one of his flyers into the chest of a
passerby.
“At least
in the darkest days of my childhood I didn’t have an adult’s wider awareness of
just what a rotten position I’m in.”
“Masterson?”
a voice horrified him. Who had
recognized him? “What are these you’re
passing out?”
It was
OK. It was just Mr. Bad Teeth, a
neighbor whose life was not much better than his own.
Masterson
glanced at the bundle of papers.
“I have no
idea,” he admitted.
.
