Sun Is A Tank On Fire

(a short story) "Babe, where is my electric razor?" Rupert asked while taking a final survey of the master bathroom.      "It's packed already, hun. It's in the blue suitcase with all the other bathroom crap and our socks and stuff. I promise, it's in there," answered his wife from the bedroom where she was busily folding and stuffing a weeks worth of outfits into a large grey luggage case. She pulled two bikinis out of her dresser drawer and held them up for comparison.      "You're sure the hotel has a swimming pool, right?" she asked. "It won't be like last time?"      Rupert walked into the bedroom and over to where Abby stood, still holding up the swimsuits. He placed his arms around her waist from behind.      "I like the green and yellow one; you look super sexy in it," he said while kissing her neck. "And yes, I triple checked with the hotel. They assured me the swimming pool area is open and filled with

(a short story)        Mr Yardley was growing increasingly frustrated with his accountant. For the past twenty minutes it felt as though he was getting some kind of run around. He couldn't put a finger on what it was exactly, but this visit was going nowhere near as smoothly as all the ones before. He peered across the desk at him and waited for him to wet his finger and flip another paper.      "I see here you shifted quite a bit of money around to various people last year. A substantial amount," Steve Battousi exclaimed.      "Yeah, and? We still call it donations these days, right? I DONATE a lot of money to causes I support."      The accountant set the down the papers he was holding and looked up at his client. "Mr. Yardley, I'm going to be frank with you. It shows here," he said while stabbing his index finger down onto the papers, "that you transferred.. excuse me, donated.. over two thousand dollars to a woman called Molly St G