Recently, because of a cool site I stumbled onto, I joined Twitter. I did this so I could post and participate in this new site called Medium.
So, tonight, in a fit of "why the hell not," I posted a flash fiction I've been messing with off and on for a couple years "Meatspace Law"
Check it out.
My client is waiting while I walk up to the cafe. It looks like his midlife crisis settled into the usual cliches as he hides behind a pair of dark sunglasses and a black leather jacket. What is about getting old and retiring that make men want to become Mick Jagger or James Dean? There’s just no rented Porsche or Bugatti sitting out front.
If he’s is missing that crucial part of a midlife crisis, can he afford lawyer’s fees? More
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