Just Getting In Step

Abstract

Outside Blake's office a bugle note sounded, then following a short silence came the patriotic brassiness of the Star Spangled Banner. They played it twice a day, at ten to eight in the morning and at ten to five in the afternoon. Blake listened absently. Before the last echo had faded, he bent his head once more over a page with a few lines written on it, most of them crossed out. He jotted another line, crossed out half of it, dropped his pen and reached for his coat. "Time to go home, Arch," he said. Arch's office was next to his. "Not for another hour, at least," came his answer. "I can't afford to keep banker's hours. How can you ?" "Can't take anymore, is all. If I have to cross out one more line before dinner, I'll lose my appetite." "One more line of what? Got another article in progress?" "Not this time. Another story, I hope." "What do you do with those things ?" "Collect rejection slips, mostly." Arch's grin was probably a little condescending. Here at this conservative college where they both collected their pay checks, Arch had learned to live with a flair. He and his wife operated a Dairy Queen, and it was a matter of stringent personal pride that his classes never suffered because of this tidy "on the side" venture. He worked like a Trappist monk on his class preparation. No nonsense. Blake was sure Arch could never understand his frivolous life. Home at five! Well, he probably couldn't understand trying to live on one lonesome salary, either. Or coming back to the office to write... stories!