While Mortals Sleep: Unpublished Short Fiction

Q: What is wrong with the world? A: Everybody pays attention to pictures of things. Nobody pays attention to things themselves.

I hear he liked flowers pretty well." "Yes," said Annie, "he said they were the friends who always came back and never disappointed him." --"Out, Brief Candle

(speaking of insecurity) "It's broken greater spirits than ours, and robbed the world of God knows how much beauty. I've seen it happen more times than I like to think about." --"$10,000 A Year, Easy

Please look at the imperfect human being God gave to love you once, and try to like me a little for what I really was, or, God willing, am. Then please, darling, become an imperfect human being among imperfect human beings again." "Jenny

People who sell bolts and nuts and locomotives and frozen orange juice make billions, while the people who struggle to bring a little beauty into the world, give life a little meaning, they starve. --"$10,000 A Year, Easy

They made a science out of people?" she said. "What a crazy science that must be." --"Mr. Z

You got troubles, I got troubles--everybody's got troubles, whether they've got a lot of money or a little money or no money. When you get right down to it, I guess love and friendship and doing good really are the big things." --"Money Talks

Keep breathing," said Ben. "That's the big thing for now." --"Money Talks

There Bomar is, wherever he is, spending a fortune every day on liquor and beautiful women and expensive playthings, when he could find peace of mind right here with us, for a mere twenty cents. --"Bomar

As I spoke of another's love and looked into the wide, blue windows of her soul, a rich, insistent yearning flooded my senses. --"Tango

(a man in love speaking) "I don't notice much of anything anymore but Marie." He laid his hand on his chest. "This force," he said, "it just does with you what it wants to do with you, makes you feel what it wants to make you feel." --"Tango

The thing about money is," said Ben, "you can't be polite to it. Leave something suspicious to say, and it'll say it...Leave something greedy to say, and it'll say it...Leave something scary to say, and it'll say it." --"Money Talks

Money began talking to Ben again--not big money this time, but little money. It niggled and nagged and carped and whined at him, as full of fears and bitterness as a spinster witch. --"Money Talks

Her pleasure went on and on, and so did Ben's. Ben could almost smell the gardenia, could almost see her pinning it on, her hands all thumbs. "You're selling your store?" she said. There was radiance between them now. There were overtones and undertones to everything they said. The talk itself was formal, lifeless. --"Money Talks

I sing of happiness, he says, and insecurity shows through--poisons it. I sing of unhappiness, and it spoils that, too, because my real unhappiness isn't great or noble but cheap--money unhappiness. --"$10,000 a Year, Easy

The lonely old soul took to Bomar like a cannibal to a fat Baptist missionary. --"Bomar

There were no windows in the Stockholders' Records Section of the Treasurer's Department of the American Forge and Foundry Company. But the soft, sweet music from the loudspeaker on the green wall by the clock, music that increased the section's productivity by 3 percent, kept pace with the seasons, and provided windows of a sort for the staff. --"Bomar

My gosh," I said, "another human being." "You'll never know how human," she said. "Maybe I will," I said. "I could try." I did try, and I do try, and I give you the toast of a happy man: May the warm springs of the girl pool never run dry. --"Girl Pool

Hawkins was eloquent and poetic--but most of all he was exquisitely sensitive to a woman's moods. He sensed it when Annie was depressed, though she never told him she was, and he would say just the right thing to cheer her. And when she was elated, he nourished her elation, and kept it alive for weeks instead of fleeting minutes. --"Out, Brief Candle

Ben understood at last that money was one big dragon, with a billion dollars for a head, and a penny on the tip of its tail. It had as many voices as there were men and women, and it captured all who were fools enough to listen to it all the time.

It was a hideous discovery for the stranger to make—that a man at the end of his days was capable of inflicting pain as the rawest, loudest youth. With so little time left, the stranger added one more item to his long, long list of regrets.

You know," she said, "every so often I meet somebody like you, and I realize it's possible for some people to grow up in this country without ever seeing anything, without ever having anything happen to them.

As I told you," he said patiently, "I'm a student of sociology, which is the science of human society." There wasn't any point in telling her that the course was actually criminology. That might be offensive. There didn't seem to be much point in telling her anything, for that matter. "They made a science out of people?" she said. "What a crazy science that must be.

One of her duties as a widow, she had learned, was to provide dramatic proof to the neighboring wives that, bad as their husbands might be at times, life without them would be worse.

And a Merry Christmas to you." "Well, sir," he said, "it won't be long now, will it, until old soup-for-brains with the long white beard will come a-jingling over our housetops with goodies for us all." "No--Guess not." "A man who whips little reindeer is capable of anything," said Hackleman.

My good, beloved wife, née Amy Lou Little, came to me from the girl pool. And there's an enchanting thought for lonely men--a pool of girls, teeming, warm, and deep.

Women are entitled to a few things too," said his mother. "They got the vote and free access to the saloons," said Earl. "What do they want now--to enter the men's shot put?" "Common courtesy," said his mother.

The thing about money is,” said Ben, “you can’t be polite to it. Leave something suspicious to say, and it’ll say it.” He took his foot down from the windowsill. “Leave something greedy to say, and it’ll say it.” He put his cigar in an ashtray. “Leave something scary to say, and it’ll say it. “Give it an inch,” said Ben, “and it’ll take a mile.” He took off his gloves, and laid them on the windowsill. “As near as I can tell, I love you, Rose,” he said. “I’d do my best to make you happy. If you love me, kiss me, and make me rich beyond my wildest dreams. Then, after that, we’ll steam these clams.

Seeing the captive maiden, remembering his own captivity, Ben understood at last that money was one big dragon, with a billion dollars for a head, and a penny on the tip of its tail. It had as many voices as there were men and women, and it captured all who were fools enough to listen to it all the time.

Anyone suffering from Sweeny’s disease, sir, makes life of the spirit impossible by reminding all around him that men are nothing but buckets of guts!