Spooky month story-a-day: six tiny stories for October 3rd. #1 On October 3rd, he asked me what day it was. “What day is it?” he asked. “It’s October 3rd,” I said. We’d been in hiding for five days. #2 On October 3rd, he asked me what day it was. “What day is it?” he asked.
“In a certain light, wouldn’t nuclear war be exciting?” he said. There I was, on what would turn out to be the middle of a long string of Scruff dates that would lead nowhere but a weekday drinking habit. He was in the Navy, maybe an officer if I remember correctly (which, I probably don’t).