Chapter One Hundred Four:
Jack finally cleared off a spot on Mike O’Grady’s ragged and well- worn easy chair. This chair has seen a lot of mileage and probably hasn’t been cleaned since Mike bought it at a local flea market many years ago.
“So, how you been Jack?” asked Mike as he sat on an old broken down couch that appeared to be on a slant.
“I’ve been better,” said Jack. “And you?”
“I get by. I should have taken better care of myself when I was younger. Of course, back then, I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about it. Now I’m paying the price. I’m fat, I smoke too much and I’m pretty crippled up with arthritis. Fortunately, I collect a disability cheque every month. I make a little extra cash fixing up people’s computers and doing a little photography on the side. The government doesn’t know about this. If they did they would either reduce my pension or take it away altogether.”
Mike took a cigarette out of his pack. “Other than that I can’t complain. Mike started a laugh that soon turned into an ugly coughing spell.
“So has life been kicking you around a bit too?” asked Mike. He was barely able to catch his breath long enough to get the words out.