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100 Short Stories in 100 Days: 2




When I graduated college, I worked a night gig at the college library. It seemed everything wasn't so hot and I was going backwards.


Each night I worked 6-2 AM. Suck city. Most nights I'd hit the Tim's next door. There was a kid there named Mike. Maybe 23, tall, lanky, black. He grew up in the rough neighborhood around the college. Mike had my coffee lined up for me every time. 8:15 PM. He was friendly and he laughed.


I didn't see him around for some weeks. He'd started selling $5 nuggets of weed by the corner store on Humboldt. Word got out about Mike. He was too fresh for this game. In the fall, some Puerto Ricans from the west side stabbed Mike to death - 5 minutes from my library.


I never caught his last name.

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