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hs93150.jpgbuy prints of select halfsquatch photographs at etsy or dawanda. (prints of all photographs are available upon request) day 93

Jeremy took a shortcut back to the newsroom. It was rush hour, and the main streets were clogged with suburban commuters trying to get home – or to the city’s single liquor store. He wouldn’t have paid any mind to the fact that his route required him to drive by Paula’s apartment if he hadn’t spotted her on the sidewalk kissing Devin. He slowed down and did a double take. Definitely Paula. Definitely Devin. “Holy Shit,” he said out loud. The car behind his honked and Jeremy stepped on the gas.

He filed his story about the upcoming hearing that would determine who got custody of the Lady Sasquatch. The forest fire story that was planned for the next day’s front page was swiftly bumped in favour of Jeremy’s CLAIM GAME scoop. “That’s quite the piece you have here,” his editor said. “Between you and Paula, we’re running circle around the competition.” He went on about the spike in single-copy sales whenever a Sasquatch story ran on the front page, about how Sasquatch enthusiasts around the world were requesting back issues for their collections, about how he could charge them an arm and a leg.

“It’s funny you should mention Paula,” Jeremy said. But it wasn’t funny at all. His editor listened closely as Jeremy revealed how Paula had bought beer for Rebecca and Dave and their friends – all minors. And he saw her kissing Devin, a major source for her HALFSQUATCH HEARTBREAK story on the street. Just now.

Jeremy made no mention of Bob Richman’s phone call. He told himself that wasn’t the reason he was snitching on Paula. Her actions were unethical, her behaviour inexcusable. It was his duty to bring this to their editor’s attention. The reputation of the paper was at stake. Still, he felt as though he’d just been splattered with a bucket of slime.

“These are very serious assertions, Jeremy.” The editor chose his words carefully. “I’d appreciate it if you’d keep this information under your hat for the time being.”

“Will do,” Jeremy said. As he walked back to his desk he could hear his editor leaving a message on Paula’s voicemail.

Jeremy picked up the phone and dialed Bob Richman.

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                                                                                                                                                          ©2008 pamela klaffke