Jealousy As An Occupation

Lisa has a hard time explaining her job. To be fair, she might have a harder time believing it herself.

"People hire me to be jealous of them. Sometimes I write a bunch of comments on their socials saying how I wish I could be more like them. Or I might burst in on a client while he's on a date begging for him to take me back because he's the best thing that's ever happened to me. It's a great boost to their self-esteem."

"And they pay you for this?"

"I'm really good at wishing I were someone else."

The Client

Nights are always long in my profession

But tonight was longer than usual, for a client I never expected to had blessed my workplace. My brother saw his little sister lying legs open on the bed. The color of my client changed, from blushing pink to raging red. I searched for a blanket to conceal my bare body, when I noticed his disgust. On what grounds would he question my morals when he himself wanted to avail the services provided by our brothel. So, he dragged his feet right out of the doors he knocked on a few minutes ago.

From Guest Contributor Krishna Sehgal

On The Floor

Marty was a penny stock trader back in the 80s. A breathtaking collection of liars and cheats, everyone doing blow. Stock exchange officials were bribed. Client accounts were bled. It was something to behold.

His supposedly statelier sales manager was all smiles but for the dead shark eyes. He would say, "If people want yellow ties, sell them goddamn yellow ties."

Once or twice a month, after market hours, Marty would go out and stick up random banks, his rickety scheme to salvage honour.

His profession was put early to the silicon sword. Mercifully, Marty never saw the party end.

From Guest Contributor Kevin Campbell

Kevin writes in Vancouver, Canada.

The Benefit Of Integrity

He sat alone at lunch. The rest of the section gathered near the tea urn to create a susurration of disapproval, which reached for some sort of crescendo which might adequately protest his being promoted without due process.

The manager emerged from her office, paused at the door – interrupting her daily early escape – to absorb, glancing occasionally in his direction. Then she approached – a study in authority.

“Sean–”

A sudden gust whipped the vertical blinds inward, toppling a desk tidy perched atop an in-tray filled with unexamined client files. The clatter distracted.

“We’re public servants. They’re entitled. I told them.”

From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid

The Billionaire's Mistress

The detective smoked on the cigar as he watched the new client walk in. The person was evidently from the lower rungs. Quite distinct from his general clientele. He wondered where did she get the reference, money, and the confidence to approach his office.

"I'm a mistress of the owner of Exotic Chemicals. His daughter has gone missing. I'm here to represent the owner."

As he put down the cigar on the ashtray, he recalled the magazine stories about the secretive billionaire. The conspiracy theories on film raced across his vision as the client opened her lips to speak again.

From Guest Contributor Debarun Sarkar

Debarun sleeps, eats, reads, smokes, drinks, labors, and occasionally writes stories and submits them. Recent works have appeared or are forthcoming in Visitant, Off the Coast, The Opiate, Aainanagar, Rat’s Ass Review, Tittynope, and here at A Story in 100 Words, among others. He can be reached at debarunsarkar.wordpress.com

The Gardener, In The Pool House, With A Rake

I stared at my client, debating internally how to respond. It wasn't the first time I'd been asked to perform a questionable task in my line of work. Normally I would refuse, but she was offering 50,000 dollars.

"You're putting me at risk here."

"If you don't want to do it, there's plenty of people who could use the money."

She was bluffing. The fact that she was asking me to murder her husband said that she didn't have anywhere else to turn. But then again, where else was I going to make 50,000 dollars as a gardener?

Confidence, Inc.

Jonah saw the ad and hoped it might be the solution to all of his problems.

"In the modern marketing age, where even individuals have begun thinking of themselves as a brand, Confidence, Inc. is there to fulfill your personal advertising needs."

Perhaps Confidence, Inc. would be able to stop the bullying and help make Jonah popular. He decided to visit their offices.

The executives at Confidence, Inc. had never engaged a client as young as Jonah. Most of their customers had at least started middle school. But after a company-wide strategy session, they welcomed Jonah as their first kindergartner.