Russell—barefoot in jeans and a threadbare t-shirt (“Pobody’s Nerfect!”)—welcomed in the delivery guys who grunted and worked the new table through the doors.
“In the dining room, please.” They removed protective wrap and polished. They stepped back, looked to Russell to make sure it was where he wanted. Russell pulled needle-nose pliers out of his back pocket, gouged a rough rut in the perfect, shining mahogany.
“What the hell?” said the short one in disbelief. The other just stared, slackjawed.
“There.” Russell nodded, hands on his hips, pliers back in his pocket. “You guys need waters?” he said.
Mitchell Nobis is a writer and K-12 teacher in Metro Detroit. His poetry has appeared in HAD, Roanoke Review, No Contact Magazine, Porcupine Literary, and others. He is a co-director of the Red Cedar Writing Project and hosts the Wednesday Night Sessions reading series. Find him at @MitchNobis or mitchnobis.com.