Clever & intriguing. More please.
By Kenneth Weene
Salvatore had never eaten breakfast. “A cup of black joe and off I go,” he had said more than once to his beloved Kathleen. And Sal was true to his word; he’d slurp down the hottest, muddiest cup of coffee he could make and charge out into the world where dealing and wheedling awaited. Sal was a salesman, and he loved his trade. It had never mattered what he was selling. It had never mattered where. He loved the sale.
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