Pittsburgh Flash Fiction Gazette

Now I’m just a 62-year-old working stiff; or a 62-year-old stiff looking for work.  I was informed recently that my hours in the pay-to-search-for-work program that I’m in have been raised from 30 to 40 hours a week at minimum wage.  Great!  I’ll take it.  You’re damn right I’ll take it.

I applied for the job that my job developer is pushing hard for me to get and I’m scheduled to take the employment test for the Census Bureau on December 19th; plus I should get my first social security check this month.  If I can hold on to this apartment a little while longer and weather any legal problems because of my debts I might be all right in the short run.  But, my friends and fellow Americans, the financial ground is opening up under our feet.

If you read the print outlets, if you tune into any respected financial show on radio or TV, if you look around you there’s only one conclusion any rational person can come to: humankind has just jumped down the financial rabbit hole.  If you think I’m being an alarmists you’re not paying attention.

I pray I’m wrong.

GHH

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