Curiosity Industry
Part One

Finally, it was his brother’s turn. After years of waiting for the worm, that slithery old varmint finally turned. Now, Jim was the one with the fat stack of bills and high social friends with deep pockets and tailored suits. Bob, on the t’thur hand, had seen his salad days go to rot. Folks’ll tell you there was something never right with old Bob. In a sense that was true but it wasn’t nothing so dark as his neighbor’s speculated. Bobby just had a touch of the old agoraphobia that cropped up every now and again. No big deal…unless you need to meet folks face to face to make your daily bread.

Bad thing was, Old Bobby did.

Heavy in the grip of paranoid terror over how he could even load up and try to move a few cases of Orthonax Sleeping Powder out in the wide, scary world, Bobby decided a time of restin' and refugin' was in order. He figured selling his car would buy him some time till he got his head straight. He didn’t know what it was called but he knew he had to get a fix on the agoraphobia. He knew some serpent down deep in his soul was crushing his dreams and allowing his blowhard of a brother to leap frog past him in their life contest to see who could get richest, fastest.

"The color of money," Bob sighed, removing the protective tarp. The almost new Roadster shimmered like moss on a sunny stretch of water. A promise that Jim had made to himself way long ago was coming true. The machine wasn’t something his old man would have ever afforded.