graphix” spwilcen
Episode VIII
Field Report
Mouseover. Assigned words today are violence, sleuthing, unbeknownst, harbinger, and trophies. Best we dispense with these words quickly so as not to impede the flow of an otherwise delicious episode. Oh. For you lexiphobes – under 500 words.
C Connie Warburton suggested we have late lunch at a Thai joint two blocks from Wharfside, and, what the hell, put off sleuthing until tomorrow. Offered to show me her Kai-Pu-Wok Karate trophies. I took a pass. Concerned her personal interest a harbinger of lurking danger, I fully suspected the woman capable of carnal violence. Besides, by then hunger took a backseat to other preoccupations.
Soon I’d know the unknowns keen on hearing of my kicking-off or more worried I might kick-off unbeknownst to them. I hoped one was a long-lost flame from college. Then, I fancied the idea of twins – twins maybe I’d never noticed in high school who back in the day had crushes on me and dreamt of making their dream reality. I was up for either.
Regardless, knowing who these unknowns were, I could safely ignore them or confront them and be done with it.
A looming danger was that the longer I was away from C Connie, the less I remembered Karl Malden, the more overpowering the memory of her filing cabinet profile.
Two days after I’d visited the C Warburton Agency, my cell phone vibrated.
“Hello, this is…” I interrupted myself.
Anybody calls me, roughly a ninety percent chance they know who they called. The idiots who cannot dial correctly – and act like it’s your fault they have a wrong number – had no business learning who I thought I was. Turned out it was not one of the ninety-percent and not one of the idiots, but someone in a hurry, prepared to interrupt anyway.
“Cee Warburton here. Got a field report for you.”
“Wow! That was fast, Ms. Warburton.”
“Call me C W.”
“I’ll stick with Ms. Warburton. If that’s okay.”
“Suit yourself. But I thought we were, you know…”
“What?”
“Close. I felt we were like, sympatico.”
“I’m slow to get close to people.”
“Right. Let’s get this report put to bed.”
“Geeze. Only been two days. So you’ve found out who or what the two names are?”
“Four.”
“Four what?”
“Names.”
“No, pretty sure I gave you two.”
“There are four now.”
“What?”
“Online first. Got to the Dark Web. Closing in on something when two spooks started dogging my traffic.”
“Don’t understand.”
“Make it simple. No resolution but two new ‘names’ are interested in you. You piss off some shark?”
“No.”
“Black marketer?”
“No.”
“Import-export consortium? Democrat?”
“Don’t think so.”
“Sure?”
“I would know?”
“Whoever these folks are, they’re very interested. Gave me heavy on-line grief.”
“You can take care of yourself.”
“Not worried about me. Someplace you can go?”
“No. Unh. Hotel maybe?”
“You got cash for two, three weeks?”
“No.”
“No card. They’ll know where you are and have muscle there before you get a bag into your room.”
“Not good.”
“Hotel’s out. You’ll have to bunk at my place.”
“Isn’t that some kind of conflict of interest?”
“No conflict with my interests. You know where Loomis Park is?”
“No.”
“Meet me at my office.”
—
© spwilcen
PSA: See all of it to this point here.
Ramblings 
Still a master of dialogue!
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I’m going for surrealism next. Maybe abstract? Expressionism? [You KNOW I’m poking at you. Or more at the fields of art -especially painting.] Just have to be careful with dialog. Some of the real life characters I deal with would shock most genteel folk.
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I am sure that whatever genre you choose you will still be a master at dialogue. But…
I would like to see what you can do with a DaDa format. Cheers my friend.
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You are un hombre duro.
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hay que serlo…
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