Writing the Ride

Candace Carrabus Books


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X is for X-Ray Vision

When Malcolm and I were at lunch at the art museum, I realized I didn’t have much money to pay for my meal. I hadn’t gotten my first paycheck yet. It was my first exposure to my new boss’s kindness and generosity.

I glanced at the menu. Malcolm’s breakfast had left me full. Especially since I hadn’t ridden or done anything to work it off. I ordered salad and snuck a peek in my wallet. Empty.

“I’m buying,” he said.

Did he have x-ray vision or something? He did have that square Superman kind of jaw. “No,” I said.

He sighed. “It’s your birthday, remember? My treat.”

“Okay,” I said. “Just this once.”

He smiled.

I was doomed.

Join me tomorrow for Y.

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