the now

"It's around 7:00 when I finally park the Grape in the garage.
I'm tired, sore, and hungry. Which means I'm as
grumpy as a geezer with a stuck fart. I get into
my van and take off, grab some Kung-Pow, then peel
rubber home. I have work to do. The thing I haven't told
my bosses yet is that I'm one of their suppliers. And by suppliers,
I mean I supply the one thing that, without which, would cut their
knees out from under them. Bodies.
Not just any bodies, mind you. These people deserve what
they get. They are chosen by some suit in a cushy chair
to go the way of the Dodo for crimes they've committed.
I don't officially exist, but everyone knows that it's not really
that bad of a thing to have around. I'm usually reserved for
traitors and the truly vile. I'm pretty good at making it look
like they do themselves in; a short length of rope and a
tipped over chair is usually good enough to fool most of the local
yokels who respond. But every once in a while a good challenge
comes up, and I have to get creative.
I love my jobs. I love the irony of planting some stiff
3 days after I off him. I enjoy the money I make doing
both jobs. The money from the funeral home keeps me
in Kung-Pow and razor blades, so I can't complain.
Am I happy? I guess. I can't see myself doing anything else
right now. But I can't say what'll happen in a few years.
I live in the now."