Simple fiction, 100 words

Things Are Looking Up
The job wasn’t glamorous, but it was outside and he was thankful.
The company sprung for the jumper, cut ample for his large frame. He’d found the boots at a thrift store, a couple of thermal shirts, too.
If he got in early, he’d bathe in the industrial sink with the industrial sprayer, which left him clean - and pink as a rose petal.
The convenience store owner who cashed his checks let him use the address, since the company required one.
He kept to himself, even when coworkers pleaded for drinks, poker.
He had plans, always.
For a life, risen.


Hal Johnson said...

Lots of meat in just 100 words.