He sat outside the bank, his hands in his pockets, where they caressed lint, two quarters and empty dreams. It was Friday and also the first. Businessmen and the elderly walked in shoulder to shoulder to do business. He wished he could join them. He missed the rank and file.

AR Neal got bit by the writing bug back in the late 1970s while watching Rod Serling and reading Ray Bradbury. Although she has worked in education for more than a quarter century, she has never been cured of her penchant for speculative fiction. Find some of her flash fiction at www.starvingartist.wordpress.com.