Nov 19, 2009 00:42
Michael Westfields had a small problem. It wasn't that he had quit his dream job nearly two years ago. It wasn't the peeling paint or empty icebox in his two room apartment on the fourth floor. Or even the shared bathroom down the hall, or his landlord. Even the editor that could honestly be said to have it out for him wasn't really his problem at the moment. No. Right now his problem was trying to get a ribbon wound in the right direction on his typewriter.