Shaniqua Smith was angry at herself.

.......................................................................................................................................................................................

(present day)

She should NOT have let that old coot get her goat. She had NOT behaved in a professional manner. Her job, as she saw it, was to gather the news and report it. Some times there was no news. MOST of the time actually.

When there was, sometimes the sources were reluctant or refused to talk. She should have left it at that. The only good thing she could see about that interview was that she hadn’t been drinking her normal drink. She had tried a new thing on a whim. On the recommendation of one of her new cub reporters she had tried a combination of Parsley, spinach, kale, celery, cucumber, lemon and apple. It had tasted ghastly. It was Icky. If she had been drinking Trucker Coffee it would have burned him.

Shaniqua had been working all day, every day, and most of the nights. She was doing her best to turn this fish-wrapper into something respectable. She emphasized the five W’s and the H. She was religious about credible sources. She demanded that her reporters get facts. She repeatedly told them to interview people who had witnessed the event being written about, less so from people who claimed to be experts on the subject. She was SO tired of conspiracy trash, Social Justice Drivel and Fake news.

Perhaps she was burning out? Maybe she was working too hard. She ate, drank and breathed her job. She even slept in a back room that she had converted to an apartment. She decided that she was tired of living here. She made a call to a real estate broker.

“This is Shaniqua Smith” She told real person who FINALLY took her call after multiple menus and "listen closely, the options have changed. She HATED those damn things. She been almost ready to hang up in disgust, after interminable waiting while listening to revolting music and advertisements when the young lady answered

"I want to buy an apartment, or perhaps a condominium. " Shaniqua told him.

“What type of apartment would you like?” the receptionist asked "I need more information so that I can connect you with the appropriate broker.”

“I want something nice I think "Shaniqua replied.

“What price range?” the receptionist asked.

“The price doesn’t matter” Shaniqua told her.

“YES Ma’am” the receptionist replied. "I’ll connect you to Mr. Perkins. He handles our luxury condos.”

She did that. FINALLY. Shaniqua was well past annoyed.

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The Beginning

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I'm

@everittdmickey
I surf the net, find the GOOD stuff.
and write posts about it
So you don't have to.
I also write
SPECULATIVE FICTION
and comment on the news

Sometimes it's hard to tell fiction from the news.