Sold Out Concert
You can pull the shades down if it makes you feel more comfortable, but it’s pitch black outside, and we face the lake, so I guarantee you that nobody can see in. Here, let’s gently unwrap it on this table. Bring over that lamp.
The cat, oblivious, strolls around.
Two million bucks for us — that’s a half million per square foot of this canvas. We could get more if we pushed it, but it’s best to grab the cash and leave the increasing circles of danger to those who take it from here.
From twenty stories below the window the steady hum of traffic on Lake Shore Drive can be heard. The pieces of string thrown on the floor get the cat’s attention. A telephone rings.
Hello. I told you not to call here. What?! That’s impossible. What about the guy in the green Volvo? What do you mean you don’t know where the switch happened. So where is the the real one? I thought everything went according to plan. God damn it!
Hangs up and fiercely tears apart the paper. An ornate golden frame, but inside it a glossy photograph of a rock band under stage lights, the Grateful Dead.
Well sonofabitch — Rick was right! So much for honor among thieves. And an insulting bad joke on top of it — instead of Vermeer’s “Concert” we get Jerry Garcia’s.
Well fuck it all to hell, man. I guess the ten thousand advance is all we’re getting out of this job. Oh well, since it’s still early — want to join me for a couple drinks? I’ll take this “art” out with me and leave it on the street for some lucky pothead to find. And while we’re out I think I’ll pick up a few lottery tickets.
Hesitant from the surges of tension in the room, the cat sits observantly in the corner.
Six of thirty-one stories — 500 words or less, written one-per-day during December 2018 — The Hunt & Peck Parables PatchWord Quilt™©.
© AleXander Hirka 2019. All Rights Reserved.