About the Author: Martin Zeigler writes genre fiction, primarily mystery, horror, and science fiction. A number of his works have been published in small press journals, both in print and online. His recent publications can be found in the journal The Weird And Whatnot and in the anthology Strange Stories: Volume I. Besides writing, Martin enjoys reading, dabbling on the piano, and taking long walks. He makes his home in the Pacific Northwest.
Mel’s at his desk in rolled-up shirtsleeves and a loosened tie, marking stuff up with a pencil. A cigarette’s going in the ashtray. He looks up and sees me at the open door, about to knock.
“Figured you’d drop by,” he says. “Come in. And close the door.”
I look at the ashtray. I make sure he sees me looking at it. “What,” he says.
“Mind if I keep it open? The door?”
“Why?”
“Mel, it’s bad enough, what with most the guys at their drawing boards smoking all day long. But at least the workroom’s got plenty of open space.”
“Yeah? So?”
“So, Mel. Hate to say it, but your office here’s the size of a postage stamp. And the AC unit in the window there makes a big racket but it doesn’t do squat.”
“Kind of like you, huh?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just close the door, will you?”
“Come on, Mel. I know we put out comic books with creatures from other worlds, but I’m still from planet Earth. I need oxygen.”
“What is it you want, as if I don’t know?”
I take a quick peek out at the hallway to see if anyone’s within earshot. “Well, it’s just that I’ve been lettering here at Sweatshop Comics for some time now, and—”
“You want a raise.”
“Well, yeah.”
“Yep, that’s what I figured. You sure you don’t want the door shut?”