Schultz and the White Stone
Fiction by Andrew Jankowski | Mr. Schultz labors down the stairs holding his dirty laundry. He kicks the bottom step three times, like a lazy mule trying to drive away a pestering insect. Or Dorothy conjuring her homeward flight. Short, fat, awkwardly proportioned, obsessive little Schultz is out of breath by the time he crosses the tiny lobby of the small decaying hotel where I work as night manager
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