Charles leaned back in his chair and congratulated himself on a job well done. Vickers had given his speech to the masses, and a fine speech it was; full of fustian grandeur and vaulting praise the rabble had gobbled it up.
Rubbing his hands together, he began to plan out the rest of his day. Perhaps a walk in the garden, then he would engage in calisthenics, and of course be cleaned up in time for what was likely to be a splendid afternoon tea session with Vickers himself.
Charles rang his handbell and a servant came to him.
"Yes, Mr. Ponus?"
"I don't suppose you heard Vickers speech just now, did you?" Charles asked, throwing the young man a line.
"No, Mr. Ponus. Was it good?"
"Good? It was excellent!"
The servant nodded. Charles noted his name tag, "Benny". He would have Benny fired; he did not have time for imbeciles.
"I would like to go for a walk in the garden."
"Yes, Mr. Ponus," Benny replied, setting to work.
Once he was dressed, Charles made his way out to the garden. Just as he went out the door he called to Benny, "Notify me immediately should Vickers be coming!"
"Yes, Mr. Ponus."
Benny watched as Charles Ponus wandered out into the garden, found a bench in the sun, and sat down. Turning to Claudia, his co-worker standing nearby, he asked, "Who is "Vickers"?"
Claudia shrugged, "I think he calls Trump that."
YOU ARE READING
365
Short StoryA bizarre collection of short stories inspired by a single word (the title of each chapter). Lengths can vary and most are dark, but some are humorous with a little romance, and slice-of-life sprinkled in (genre in title).
