Episode Five

The Short Stories of Waldo

I t had been no more than thirty minutes since I had met this very sad man. I learned four things about him since we met.

First, he smoked; and apparently liked my cigarettes better than his own.

Two, as a boy,  he had lived in a cabin by himself.

Three, he and a blond girl, that lived on the same dirt road as he, became close plutonic friends.

Four, I had to be carefull because he would burst into sobs at the most inopportune moments.

On the otherhand maybe that fourth one was something I learned about myself as well as him. That is all beside the point; allow me to continue the sad man’s story.


“Then it happened!” said the man as I sat there on that log listening to his story.

Again, he didn’t even wait for me to ask the obligatory “what happened?”

“The little…

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