Receipt Paper

"I didn't plan to write a book. I planned to survive the night shift."Behind the bulletproof glass of an adult video store on 24th Street, a college dropout spends his nights counting unsold DVDs and cleaning booths. But he also writes-on receipts, napkins, the backs of his hands.He writes about the man who stands still for eleven minutes because moving means going home. The woman who buys a single battery for her son's robot. The milkman who prays on a crack in the floor. The manager who smokes through a hole in her throat. The grieving father who returns seven DVDs in one night.Receipt Paper is a collection of character-driven short stories about the invisible people who keep the world running while the world sleeps. It's a work of literary fiction that explores grief and friendship, working-class lives, and the radical act of paying attention.Set during the graveyard shift, these quiet literary fiction stories remind us that everyone is carrying something-a dead daughter, a dead son, a dead marriage, a dead dream-and that someone is always watching, always writing, always seeing.No one applauds the night shift. But someone is writing about it. Someone sees you.

"I didn't plan to write a book. I planned to survive the night shift."Behind the bulletproof glass of an adult video store on 24th Street, a college dropout spends his nights counting unsold DVDs and cleaning booths. But he also writes-on receipts, napkins, the backs of his hands.He writes about the man who stands still for eleven minutes because moving means going home. The woman who buys a single battery for her son's robot. The milkman who prays on a crack in the floor. The manager who smokes through a hole in her throat. The grieving father who returns seven DVDs in one night.Receipt Paper is a collection of character-driven short stories about the invisible people who keep the world running while the world sleeps. It's a work of literary fiction that explores grief and friendship, working-class lives, and the radical act of paying attention.Set during the graveyard shift, these quiet literary fiction stories remind us that everyone is carrying something-a dead daughter, a dead son, a dead marriage, a dead dream-and that someone is always watching, always writing, always seeing.No one applauds the night shift. But someone is writing about it. Someone sees you.