Tidings (a short story):
And the Archangel Gabriel came into Myra’s cubicle on the second Friday of the pay period as she was filling out her time and attendance card. And Myra was not particularly afraid. She’d seen it all. Besides, she had nothing to feel guilty about, for she was scrupulous in recording her hours and, indeed, hadn’t put in for all of the overtime to which she was entitled. Still, she didn’t feel especially virtuous, so she was skeptical when the archangel cleared his throat with great portent and announced, “You have found favor in the eyes of the Lord.” (continue reading in PDF format)

Excerpt from Intelligence:
We, the disgruntled, are legion in the mines. We inhabit forgotten side shafts, hidden pocks, the underside of dislodged stones. By our own stubbornness, audacity, or foul luck, we’ve condemned ourselves in perpetuity to scuttle laterally through the vast intelligence bureaucracy, kept away from the controversial accounts, from the glass-walled upper reaches of management. We wallow in supposed moral superiority and thumb our noses at the eager climbers, glib accommodators, ass-licking yes men and women who pass us on the stairs. We’re bitter, wise, and irreverent. We know where the bodies are buried and have the don’t-give-a-damn gall to joke about it. They never let us brief the Esteemed Legislative Body. They would fire us, but we might write books. (purchase from Amazon.com)

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