Eleven Years of Eating Lunch by a Window in Columbus, Ohio, Ended With a Box I Never Expected
“Derek offered me the basement job.
Records integration lead.
Thirty-eight hundred more a year.”
Charles chewed for a while.
Then he rotated the thick rubber band on his notebook a quarter inch, like a man setting a clock he doesn’t trust.
“Which basement is that?”
“There’s only the one.”
“There’s the one under the loading dock and the one under this wing.