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Forward Still

May 14, 2018

“What do you mean you still haven’t figured out my phone number?”

He spoke into his phone even though there wasn’t anyone on the line.

“What? Look, yes, there are people who desperately need to get laid. No question. No question about it. Bu—”

A pause.

“Hon. Sometimes a motorcycle is just a motorcycle.”

Another.

“No. No! Irma Bunt and Blofeld are not going to shoot us on our honeymoon. No. First off, they’re fictional characters, Hon. And only Cynthia makes idle threats. Whoever these others are, the don’t make threats at all. They make promises.”

Still another.

“Only if they want their asses handed to them for real instead of virtually. Ok? And I wouldn’t even have to lift a finger. Nor would you. It’d just…sorta…happen. So stop worrying. Damn. You worry too much. I know, I need to slow down, too.”

Again.

“Then figure it out. It’s right there, in plain sight. Just about the simplest goddam cypher I could think of. Really. Of course they know–without looking. They already knew it, I told you. Ok? Just have a little…”

And again.

“I don’t know. Belief in things unseen. You believe there’s oxygen when you walk into a room? Why? You can’t see it.”

“‘K. Yep, don’t care you, too. Bye.”

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