Commute

Executive in his car. Traffic Jam. Make your fantasies come true. Phone: (666) 547-7654.

Finally makes it to his suburban neighbourhood. Policemen on the road. Sirens and flashlights shine urgency on the everyday pavement. You cannot drive any further, sir. He gets out of the car and pushes aside the first policeman. A couple of officers grab him by his arms and hold him in place. You have to step back, sir. Let me go, let me go, as he tries to slide himself free of his jacket. Trenched-coat comes up to them. Middle-aged Greek detective. Officers, let him go. Yes, detective! drone they. Cool enough now? Cool to talk, yes? Detective? What’s going on? Where do you live, sir? What’s going on? That’s my house! Mary! Mary!


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