Fortune Refused
Nov 1 · 1 min read
Prompts = Sense, Vent, Myopic
Ira Cummings was a man with no future. He had only the present, which recycled itself with tedious regularity: same morning routine, same bland breakfast, same maintenance man job in a rundown factory. His only joy was eating his bologna-sandwich lunch on the roof.
One day as he ate, a white canvas bag fell from the sky, venting $100 bills. The bag of money landed within arm’s…

