Cleaning Up - short-short story
Sunday, September 2nd, 2007John sat staring at the woman mouthing the morning news from his silent television. He shifted, his back stiff and complaining from a long night of sitting and staring. Two weeks of stubble grated against his fingers as he rubbed his cheeks and brought his hand down to stifle a yawn. He smiled. Covering his mouth as he yawned had never been very high on his list of things to worry about; it used to drive his mother crazy. His own son had changed all that. As soon as Shawn was old enough to start mimicking his and Tonya’s behavior, things like manners suddenly became important.