Wednesday, June 1, 2016

Crush Hour

        It was crush hour in Los Angeles—trucks to the right of me, cars to the left. Five lanes of traffic had crawled to a stop and I was due at a meeting in twenty minutes. I thumbed the office number.
        My secretary answered. “Where are you?” she demanded. “The Avenger's here.”
        “Stuck on the 2-oh-5.”
        “Shall I call Superman?” she whispered.
        “What could he do?”
        “Give you a literal lift.”
        I couldn’t see any other way out of this mess. “Sure,” I said, smiling at myself in the rearview mirror. “I’ll promise him a role in my next blockbuster.”

Let’s see what the others wrote:

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