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Three-Minute Fiction
Three-Minute Fiction: First Night
October 27, 2012 Their first night in the White House, and he's still flossing his teeth in the bedroom. What is it with this man? She frowns to remind him. He looks straight at her, fingers in his mouth, and shrugs. Turning his back to her, he stands at the window.
Three-Minute Fiction
Three-Minute Fiction: The Real White House
October 27, 2012 The president ducked sharply to avoid being smacked in the face by the microphone boom. The Oval Office was not designed for the president, his aides and advisers to do business alongside a camera crew, and space was tight.
Three-Minute Fiction
Three-Minute Fiction: Executive Copy
October 21, 2012 "Mr. President, can you tell me who was your roommate in college your junior year?" This is the 845th question that I've been asked in today's session.
Three-Minute Fiction
Three-Minute Fiction: Indiana
October 20, 2012 Yesterday I passed a watermelon-red Olds 88 just like the one my grandfather drove in 1960. He was tall, white-haired and certain about things, the image of ancient to a 5-year-old.
Three-Minute Fiction
Three-Minute Fiction: Dead Of Night
October 20, 2012 At 2:30 a.m., the black sedan pulled up to the gate on Pennsylvania Avenue. Martin marveled how short a distance it was from the street to the threshold of world power. As he stepped from the car into the damp autumn night, he sensed a foreboding, underscored by the increased security presence.
Three-Minute Fiction
Three-Minute Fiction: Balance
October 20, 2012 It wasn't easy for the donors to find the space — close to the White House there wasn't much available. But they eventually found a building that was just big enough for a track.
Three-Minute Fiction
Three-Minute Fiction: Diane And The Politician
October 20, 2012 Diane Branson was attempting to apply lipstick despite her shaking hand. How is it, she thought, that a word of only three letters could grow into such a continent of deceit?
Three-Minute Fiction
Three-Minute Fiction: Laces
October 19, 2012 It was an unimaginative cliche, and in this case, untrue. "He ties his shoes just like everyone else," someone in the diner said after the president and his entourage departed.
Three-Minute Fiction
Three-Minute Fiction: Marta
October 18, 2012 Light seeped out from under the door again. Marta rested her chin on the roll of paper towels that sat on top of her cart. For two years she had cleaned these rooms, late at night when everyone else was gone, and often that light was on.
Three-Minute Fiction
Three-Minute Fiction: Garage Sale Savior
October 14, 2012 He was tired. It was late. The president stood up, stretched and went looking for a cup of coffee from the Marines, the Secret Service having been sublet to Ireland.