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July 12, 2005

Iota

Dice was pissed. The son of a bitch always keeps me waiting. The lights changed again, WALK it said. "Split is more like it," he thought. Dice had a small bladder, and waiting usually bothered him more then most people, more then people thought it should, it put him on edge in a way that he couldn't explain. Or wouldn't. He just got edgy, short, impatient. pissed.


Stevie Iota was definitely becoming the weak link. Dice didn't have an margin for this, he had other places he had to be, and soon. Waiting for Stevie wasn't in the plan. Dice reached out and pushed the crosswalk button. Plan B.

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In the office, Carla hung up the phone and finished writing on the pink pad. For: Dice Caller: Stevie said to give him a call, said you have the number. She noted down the time, 1:16 pm, and put her initials on the bottom and put it in the circular thing that sat on the corner of her desk.

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Dice drove back fast, pushing the lights. He turned his phone back on as he was passing through the fence. You have two messages, it said.



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posted by matthew at 06:12 PM