Tuesday, March 3, 2009


One night, says the guy. Just watch her. I take out my phone and act as if I’m checking a message, when really I’m just cycling through call settings I’ve never actually used. The guy doesn’t move. I mean, his face doesn’t even move. It’s like I’m not even there, like he’s just looking at the blank wall that I’m leaning on. I snap my phone shut. Alright, I say. Okay. I’ll watch her.

So the guy takes me down this long corridor, and through about three doors, always turning left, every time, so I guess we’re coming back in on ourselves like a scroll or snail’s shell shape or whatever, but the thing is he has to unlock these doors, each one with a different key from a set he carries wrapped around his fingers like a cagefighter, or at least how I imagine a cagefighter would carry around keys, all tensed up in his fist with each key poking out so that he could cause maximum damage by slashing it at someone’s face.

We get eventually get to the last door, and the guy’s face still hasn’t changed, even though what’s behind the door is going to be really horrible and the worst thing is that I know he knows this. So I actually say, Do we have to wear a mask or something, and he shakes his head and hands me a gun that he’s taken out of a holster attached to his arm. Just aim for the eyes, he says, and even though this doesn’t seem such good advice, I tell myself that the guy has actually been behind the door and I haven’t, and as such, this is all I really have to go on.

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