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Microsoft Word - 2014_Great_American_Fiction_Contest-Auld_Lang_Syne-by_Stephen_G_Eoannou.docx

Auld Lang Syne By Stephen G. Eoannou riff stood in the bedroom doorway and watched his wife count the money a third time. Val’s hands trembled as she piled the $50 bills on the bed in stacks G of 10. When she was finished, there were 10 neat stacks on the bedspread. Val looked up at Griff. “5,000,” she said. Griff nodded. He had counted it twice before she got home. “Tell me again how you found it.” “There’s not much to tell,” Griff said, leaning against the doorjamb, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “My shift ended and I found it when I was cleaning the back of the cab.” “So it belongs to your last fare.” Griff shrugged. “The envelope was under the backseat, like it had been dropped and accidently kicked when the person was getting out. I don’t know who it belongs to.” “You must have an idea. A suspicion.” Griff walked to the bedroom window and looked out on the street. The wet snow was still falling as it had all evening, accumulating on bare branches and sagging power lines. The


Microsoft Word - 2014_Great_American_Fiction_Contest-Auld_Lang_Syne-by_Stephen_G_Eoannou.docx
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