I knew not to download the stories. I should have known better than to leave them somewhere accessible. I tried to remember here they were? She must have sensed the train running through my brain. “I don’t mean to get you on edge. And don’t worry, I’m not going to tell anyone.”Immediately a sense of relief washed over me. “I just wanted you to know I found them. That you aren’t covering your tracks as well as you think you are. I don’t care what you do at work. But I know Mr. Bender would think different if he ever came across anything like that.”Mr. Bender, our boss, surely would think different. I’d be out the door and on my ass, and this wasn’t the kind of economy I wanted to be jobless in.“Well, thanks Brenda. I, uhhh, really appreciate it,” I confessed. “You don’t know how much I appreciate your attitude about this.” I was still embarrassed, and I’m sure my cheeks were beet red. But, knowing she was going to keep this between us helped to settle my mind down a little bit.“I must. Fliers and posters were the bane of downtown Levall. There were kiosks for fliers on most downtown corners, but the college students who papered the town nightly sometimes got creative. He unlocked the glass door.The late-November wind cut through him as he ripped the posters down. Somebody in a passing car whistled. Scott grinned, he was barefoot and wearing only a pair of running shorts – on Main Street.He looked at the posters. They were promoting a 'battle of the bands' contest at one of the popular downtown clubs. He squeezed the paper into a ball, but had nowhere to get rid of it.He retraced his steps to the kitchen and hunted for a wastebasket. He opened all the cabinets and searched the walk-in pantry, but couldn't find one. The downstairs bathroom didn't have one. Scott rubbed his neck with a free hand. Upstairs, he checked the master bath and the secondary bathroom, no trashcans. He walked to his office. The wood paneling with the contrasting strip of textured limestone was.
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