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Mushrooms

Raven wouldn’t give me the time of day. “Some o’clock and there’s trouble,” she cackled, before flying out a window that wasn’t there. What was in that muffin, I wondered? I’d bought it from a little fellow pushing a sleek silver cart. The floor dropped out from under me (my office doubled as the freight elevator), and I could no longer read the handwriting on the wall. Then I was out on the sidewalk, RIFed on my second day with the company, without even a gold watch.

Finch lurched by sprouting
clothes I’d be caught dead in
snagged a fedora