by Brock Rhodes
This apartment is dark. Its door swings open. Light floods in. A switch is flipped. The place looks bare.
A twig enters. He is old. A samurai-wig covers baldness. Orange reflects the jumpsuit.
The man approaches a phone-stand. Tones dial a number.
The voice is tired, "Hello."
"I have escaped."
The voice is wakened. "Who is this?"
"Okay, bye." The phone disconnects. Information reached destination. The exchange is complete.
The fugitive thinks. He is rusty. He seeks a number. The connector is utilized. The phone rings. Then it rings. His foot twitches.
An interruption, "Mr. Go?"
Mr. Go delivers a question. "Do you have my wife?"
He gets answered, "She's waiting."
He moves on, "Okay, bye."
The conversation is over.
The fugitive strips. He searches the wardrobe. A suit is folded. It is worn. The jumpsuit is discarded.
Mr. Go exits. He is half.