by Dan Dillard
*****
JIM WALKED BACK to the break room after scrubbing his helmet and goggles and dumping his paper coveralls into the bin for incineration. He punched the clock and left with a skip in his step.
“Nothing like clocking out, eh fellas?” he said to Ray and some others.
“Maybe for you,” said Ray, “I gotta go home to the wife.”
Ray’s wife was his equal in girth, but what she had in waistband, she lacked in personality. The fat and jolly train passed her by completely. Everyone gave a half-hearted laugh at Ray’s expense and continued on their paths like worker bees. Jim pulled his cell phone from his jeans pocket and made his ritual call to Dana to plan their dinner. He got in his truck as the phone rang.
“Hello?” She said.
“Hi. It’s Jim.”
“Hey, baby. I guess it is about that time, huh? Where to eat tonight?” she asked.
“Diner?”
“Fine with me, see you there in a few minutes.”
“You ok?” he asked, noticing the unusual rhythm in her voice.
“It’s just been a long day. We’ll talk at the diner.”
“K, love you.”
“I love you too,” she replied and hung up.
He smiled as he stuffed the cheap Motorola in his shirt pocket and put the truck in gear.
