4400 words General Fiction
An aging alcoholic receives and has to figure out what to do with a gift bestowed on him which turns his touch to magically produce what he desires.
On a brisk spring day, Jack Crowley opened the door to his rooming house on Oak Street and headed down to Sassy Sue’s Diner for his mid-morning meal. A little sustenance before he made his way to The Dead End for his first drink of the day. Jack wondered whether Johnny would have the clam chowder on yet, and his stomach growled in anticipation. He moved a little quicker down the sidewalk, his stomach doing somersaults by now, but he stopped cold when he heard a whistle that sounded like it came from above. Looking up, to his surprise, he saw a tiny man with a green hat sitting on a branch, whittling a piece of wood with a pocket knife.