. . . grow up down

. . . “Our client,” says her lawyer,with  a reproving glance at his companion, “has empowered us to drop the lawsuit if you will retract your title.”

“Tell Her I write creative non-fiction.  She should like that better. Even when I try for fiction it comes out factual. Mostly.”

“That may be satisfactory,” her lawyer gathers up his papers, taps them together briskly on the tabletop.

“We’ll get back to you,” says her agent, proffering me a gold-emblazoned card.

“No, really.  Let Her tell me Herself.  I’d really rather deal directly with Summer  myself.  Face to face.”. . .


[story: “a fiction: Summer“]


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