Mr Gunners

By Jason Cosnett

Why of all days did she decide to put on her open toe heels? An appearance of empowerment over practicality might have been a deciding factor at seven o’clock in the morning, but ten hours later, it was nothing more than a foolish whim.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jason Cosnett
• Release date: Jun 22, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005785727

Jason Cosnett

There's a guy in the place who's got a bittersweet faceAnd he goes by the name of Ebeneezer GoodeHis friends call him 'Ezeer and he is the main geezerAnd he'll vibe up the place like no other man couldHe's refined, sublime, he makes you feel fineThough very much maligned and misunderstood

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Mr Gunners

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2022 Jason Cosnett

The Sweetest Man

Mrs Samantha Anderson had endured the most awful of days, and she was still yet to get home. It all started with a burnt piece of toast for breakfast, courtesy of her sixteen-year-old son who had evidently forgot to check the dial after he had inserted the bread into the toaster. Carbonised bread is one thing, but a kitchen full of smoke is quite another, and it took a full twenty minutes to clear the air and get the house back to normality. She had lost her appetite by that time, and in the ensuring chaos to exit the house to catch her bus (doubling back to pick up her umbrella), Samantha had forgotten to take her lunch from the fridge. And whilst the bus was on time, it appeared the importance of timely public transport scheduling did not extend to the train network, and she arrived at work a full forty-six minutes late. Her usual black coffee from the staff kitchenette was disregarded as she rushed to her desk, and she spent the rest of the morning catching up on the backlog of outgoing phone calls that needed to be made to the usual band of brokers and financial advisers, some of whom had anticipated a call much earlier on in the morning and they made no effort to hide their displeasure.

By ten-thirty, her stomach was positively growling, and she chanced a pick from the communal staff fruit bowl, settling on the blackened banana that was the probably the least likely produce to be relegated to the bin if the state of the other fruit was any guide. It was however more edible than the overcooked bread her son had decided to treat her with, so she at least had some sustenance in her stomach.

The remainder of the working day didn’t fare much better. There were more irate customers than normal on the telephone