…and on the 8th day, micro fiction was published on some dude's blog.

Another Quiet Day At Dale’s Fancy Napkin Emporium

It was another quiet day at Dale’s Fancy Napkin Emporium.

Really quiet. Once again, Dale had sent everyone home early and was manning the phones himself. Which wasn’t a problem, because they weren’t ringing.

And that gave him a lot of time to think. What had gone wrong? Was the FNE simply a victim of the lousy economy? Dale rejected that idea. He was an entrepreneur, a go-getter; he didn’t believe in the idea that there were forces beyond his control.

And it’s not like people stopped using napkins, no matter how good or bad the economy got. If ever there was a recession-proof business, fancy napkins was it.

No, Dale ended up coming to the only logical conclusion, and the one that scared him the most: He was living in a different America than the one in which he started the FNE.

A changed America. An America where people still used napkins, sure, but they were content with the crappy paper kind you use once, crumple into a ball, and throw away.

It was no longer an America were people were willing to pay a few hundred dollars for a four-pack of dry clean only napkins crafted of the finest linens with hand-embroidered gilded thread accents. It was an America where fancy napkins were considered “frivolous”–an unneccesary expense instead of a sound investment–and that made Dale sad. He figured he was probably going to have to shut the Emporium down completely before too long.

But Dale always saw the silver lining, and in this case he realized shuttering the Emporium would give him more time to focus on his new venture: High-quality men’s matching silk pocket square and ascot sets.

That is, “focus” as much as he needed to. If anything was a staple of American life, even more so than fancy napkins, it was high-quality men’s matching silk pocket square and ascot sets. Those things would totally sell themselves.


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2 thoughts on “Another Quiet Day At Dale’s Fancy Napkin Emporium

  1. Please ask him to have one of his pigeons deliver me the news when he opens his spats and sock suspenders emporium. You just can’t find high-end spats these days.

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