Paul Enns Wiebe
Komos Books
  • Home
  • Novels
  • Biography
  • Reviews
  • Contact
  • Blog

from Just Another Dead White Male

3/7/2019

0 Comments

 
On the last Wednesday afternoon in June, while Ed was reading the copy of Mollshe had bought at a garage sale, the phone rang.
            
Perhaps bought isn’t the word. What had happened was this. The previous Saturday morning he had accompanied Mildred on her weekly bargain hunt, and while she was checking out the action in pant suits, he’d come across a stack of magazines—several copies of Arousal, a Playmate or two, and the Molls—items that he, with time on his hands and no Classics at his disposal, paged through, just out of idle curiosity. Mildred came over to him to share her delight over the discovery of a white pant suit, size six, which would have to be dyed pink and ironed and taken in at the waist but was otherwise just perfect. He became so enthusiastic over her purchase that he accidentally slipped the Molls between the folds of the pant suit, an oversight that went undiscovered until they got home and Mildred was on the phone to Thelma with news of her fabulous buy and he was continuing to admire that bargain when what to his astonishment should fall out of the folds of that pant suit but the copy of Molls.
0 Comments



Leave a Reply.

    Picture

    Paul Enns Wiebe perpetually asks himself, "What do I want to write when I grow up?"

    Archives

    January 2021
    November 2020
    October 2020
    September 2020
    August 2020
    July 2020
    June 2020
    May 2020
    April 2020
    March 2020
    January 2020
    December 2019
    November 2019
    October 2019
    September 2019
    August 2019
    July 2019
    June 2019
    May 2019
    April 2019
    March 2019
    February 2019
    January 2019
    December 2018
    November 2018
    October 2018
    September 2018
    August 2018
    July 2018
    June 2018

    Categories

    All

    RSS Feed