My companion, a nameless, beefy fellow, was napping uncomfortably against the bannister on the third floor landing of a nearly deserted and decaying office building which might have been called seedy when it was new, about the time civilization was experimenting with indoor plumbing. He was wearing his neck tie around his wrists, which were behind his back. He still had a reddish welt across his neck. He had fallen asleep in an awkward position, his esophagus across a stair step. It hadn’t helped him much that I had been standing on the other side of that beefy neck. He would awaken in a moment or two, meanwhile I admired the craftsmanship of my latest purchase at the fashion store in downtown Yotham City. A silver flask, filled with a pint of Old Noob Kentucky Bourbon. It had a nice Viking ship crossing rough waters, a metaphor for better times in our local corner of the world wide web… a two dimensional realm of digital Colorforms stuck on varying backgrounds limited only by imagination, a few YoBucks, and the evil machinations of dweebs like this fellow who worked to gather digital wealth through nefarious means. I took a long pull on the flask and felt the liquid, a binary flow of flammable solvent that helps me solve cases, trickle into whatever passes for my virtual gut. I like the clever cap on this flask. It hinges neatly out of the way, yet seals nice and tight, sealing even the volatile fumes of my favorite beverage. Five YoCash at the fashion store from the Yotham City theme… Well… time to get back to work.
Posted on: Sat, 31 May 2014 15:36:11 +0000
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