Again, the question plagues me, who am I? Who am I? Is there duality in the “I”?
I tossed the orange file toward her and the woman stumbled, reaching for it. My stiff body launched itself at her. Her soft skin entered my calloused hands. I pulled. Hard.
Will she taste tender?
He clears his throat, turning to leave. I grab my umbrella as the darkening clouds started to form. The shade covers me, and throughout the empty streets, I walk in the direction of the man.
My grip loosens on the umbrella, now angled downward; it slices easily into his thigh and he starts to bleed, the red now burdened, padding his brown layered pants. He slips a tad on the concrete, whirring slightly deeper into the dark dawn tip of the knife.
I was breathing heavily. I fell on the ground. I couldn’t keep my eyes open but before I dozed off, I heard a large honk, something that sounded like a foghorn.
“Give me the microchip. Easy, easy does it. Perfect!”
“That’s a houze of a different color,” Z observed.
“Horse too,” I replied lowly.
“What’s that?” he asked. “Never mind. We have other fish to filet. If it wasn’t you, we have off-grid competition. They’re playing the game old school. What could they have gotten before tossing him off the roof? The zame things we got last night? We must assume he told them about us. This is not good.”
“You know,” I said after a pause. “I think it’s really not good to speculate cases and things. In my experience, that’s what gets you into trouble.” Cracker had been at the organization half the amount of time I had been there. I thought it a benevolent deed to give them a few pointers.
“Whatever mate,” Cracker leaned against the elevator wall. “All I’m sayin’ is that’s a whole lot of stinking garbage for someone to clean up and I’m just glad it’s not me.” They pushed their large glasses further up their nose.
“You see,” He pats me on the shoulder without washing his hands, “you see how far you can come to be like me… An empire of data, the co-owner of at least five industries with thirty percent say.”
“Sounds like shit, to be honest.”
“The thirty percent say. You don’t have much control, do you?”