The Landlord

Bob Leonard looked at his watch. It was time to go out on the front porch to unlock the drop box. Pretty soon, he will have Twenty thousand dollars to deposit in his bank account. He hadn't bothered to dress for the day...he was wearing just his boxers, a dirty tee shirt and a pair of slippers. What the hell. He thought. No one was going to see him anyway, the porch was enclosed.

His big, stubby fingers fumbled with the key on the padlock. Success! He loved this part of his job. Collecting rent money. It was the best and fastest way to earn a lot of cash that was still legal. He began to rummage through the envelopes, checks and money orders...uh-huh. Just as he though, Marla Mitchell's check wasn't in there. He was furious. He took time to count the rest of the bounty. Yes. It was all there.

He picked up the phone and called her number. She wasn't home. He hung up for a minute until he could think of what he had to say. Marla used to be a good tenant. For six years she always paid her rent on time and never complained about anything. Now all of a sudden, she had become his worse enemy. She had called the code enforcement people on him twice. He wasn't ready to kick her out yet. He felt that she needed to be taught a lesson first.

He recalled her number and left his message on her answering machine. He snickered to himself. Its time for the bitch to pay up or get out he thought to himself. He laughed inwardly and got ready to head for the bank. Today was a good day. He wasn't about to let some broad ruin it for him.

Across town Marla Mitchell got home from work early. It had rained the night before, and the plastic over her sofa helped protect the fabric from the steady dirty drips of water coming from behind the bubbled dropped ceiling. Knowing that a major disaster could happen if something wasn't done, she stood on a chair with a pencil, and carefully poked a whole in the middle of the sagging tile to allow the water to drip down freely.