The Donation by Dale Hartley Emery - Read Online
The Donation
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Summary

On a busy street corner in the searing heat of a Sacramento July afternoon, homeless veteran Gene Garron makes a seemingly simple promise in exchange for a donation beyond his wildest dreams.

But a large sum of money attracts a great deal of attention.

The wrong kind of attention.

Attention that can make even the simplest promise hard to keep.

A short story from Dale Hartley Emery.

Published: Driscoll Brook Press on
ISBN: 9781632610171
List price: $2.99
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THE DONATION

Dale Hartley Emery

Driscoll Brook Press

© 2015 Dale Hartley Emery

Copyright Information

Contents

Title Page

Howe and Arden

The Powder Blue Eight-Pack

Slushies

Change

Evidence

About the Author

Connect with the Author

Books by the Author

Copyright Information

Howe and Arden

Gene Garron tried to swallow and failed. His mouth and tongue and throat were sticky. He had drunk his fill of water from the faucet in the Save Fast restroom no more than an hour ago. But according to the thermometer on the Delta Bank marquee, the temperature here at the corner of Howe and Arden was 108 degrees. Hot even for Sacramento. The shallow concrete-and-red-brick median where he stood offered no relief. The only shade was from his lucky Tilley hat. Heat radiated up from the blacktop.

The Tilley had been greasy and battered and torn even when he had found it five months earlier, blown against a highway embankment near McKinley Park. But in the chilly February drizzle he had muttered to himself, I need a damned hat. And there, half submerged in a shallow puddle at the bottom of the grassy embankment, was a gray, plaid, cotton Tilley, ratty and wet and smelling like the grease from some other man’s head. But it was a hat, just when he needed one. Lucky.

Now the mid-afternoon July sun stung as it beat down on Gene’s sunburned, peeling arms. He’d sold his only long-sleeved shirt a week earlier for three dollars. Hell of a good trade, he’d thought at the time. Maybe that had been a mistake. And maybe he should wear gloves, though when he imagined himself holding up his sign in a thick pair of canvas work gloves, imagined his fingers sweating inside the gloves for hours on