He stares down the long hall, his cart empty, sweat beading his upper lip and inside his cap. His knees are weak and his hands shaking did he really sign up for this?
“Open”, he shouts. The gate creaks back.
Arriving at the first door, he flips the lock, “push through your tray”. Grabbing it, he throws it on the cart proceeds to the next door.
“Unbelievable, I am a busboy on Death Row.”

Flash in the Pan is brought to you by the amazing Red of M3 fame
This week’s word is Busboy. The word limit is 75 words. This one comes in at 74.
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When I was a child, I spoke and thought and reasoned as a child. But when I grew up, I put away childish things. 1 Corinthians 13:11


name, right) understands when I say, “I can’t do that”; I am not whining I am actually saying something within my injured body is not going to allow me to do what she is asking. I love this about her!



