A man named Manny lived in a Manhattan mansion manifestly too large for one man. Somehow Manny managed to maintain the mansion with its manicured lawns in an appropriate manner. But Manny worked in a low-paid manufacturing job and the mandatory mortgage repayments were like a manacle around his neck. One day, muttering a maniacal mantra, Manny grabbed his keys from the mantelpiece, got in his car, manipulated the manual transmission and drove into the country. Manny went for a walk, stepped in manure and was attacked by a Manticore, of all things. Manny's corpse was so mangled that to manoeuvre it into his coffin took many, many men. One final irony: I dripped mango juice all over the manuscript of this story!
© Copyright S R Schwarz 2007. All rights reserved.
