Cornflakes

I gave the lazy-susan one more spin, but came up with the same results again. Cornflakes. “Cornflakes and beer,” I say to the fridge as I pull it open for a cold one. “Breakfast of champions, once again.”

After pouring myself a bowl I flopped down behind my desk. I put my feet up and ate. It doesn’t taste the best but it’ll do in a pinch, and in a pinch was where I was. Between a rock and the proverbial hard place. It had been at least a month since my last job and funds were getting slim again.

A shadow moved across my office’s smoked glass door followed by a soft rapping. “Come in,” I said looking up from my bowl.

My spoon never made it back to my mouth, but my jaw decided to meet it half way.
She was stunning, absolutely stunning. An image that any G.I. would kill for to grace the side of his aircraft.

“I don’t know if I’m in the right place…” she started.