“I´m sorry, but I´m actually not interested in being friends”, I say as I sip my coffee.

“Why not?”, the writer replies as he sets his taza down on the table at the small cafe.

He pauses; should I say the joke?

He takes a deep breath; pauses; looks out the large bay window; turns his head back to me.

“I´m a fungi!”

I turn my head to the large bay window; to the barista; back to the writer.

“No”, I reply.

I pause.

“Yes”, I repeat to him as I pick up my taza, “you are a fun guy. I enjoy these conversations.”

“So”, he says as he sets his taza down and leans back in his chair, “did you want to talk about work assignments?”

I pause.

“Not really”, I reply as I take a sip of coffee, “but.. you know.. what the fuck? 5 pesos and caring gets a phone call home, but not much more.”

I pause again; take a sip of coffee; needs more sugar.

“So”, I say as I lean back in my chair, “did you see the post a couple days ago?”

“No”, he replies as he leans forward and sets his taza down.

“Yeah”, I reply, “I don´t blame you. The blog´s kinda lame.”

I pause.

“Regardless”, I say as I set the taza down, “there was a post a couple days ago–in it, there was a list of 7 writing topics.

I yawn.

“I want you to write essays for each topic, in the first person, present tense.”

I look back to the bay window; I turn my head back to the aspiring writer; this job sucks.

“So”, he replies, “there´s 7 topics–you want how many words for each topic?”

I pause; maybe, there´s some intelligence here?

“500-800 words per essay.”

“When do you need it done?”

“I don´t really care.”

“Consider it done”, the writer replies as he picks up his taza and leans back in his chair.


“So”, my wife says as she gets up from the table in the kitchen, “how was your day?”

“It was nice.”

I pause; it was really nice, actually.

“I gave the assignment to your robotcompanion, then, with the afternoon, I strolled over to the park and ate HAKIlocos as I watched the ducks swim around the pond.”

“That´s nice.”

I pause.

“I know, right!”

“What´s for dinner?”, HR asks as she turns her head to look out the kitchen window.

Isn´t it another school day?

I pause; say something or let it go?

“Hey”, I say as I lean forward and pick up a bag of papitas, “isn´t this a school day?”

She pauses; how´s he know?

“No”, she replies as she leans forward and grabs a bag of papitas, “it´s a holiday.”

Hmm…. can I trust her?

She continues talking, “check the web. It´s a holiday.”

I pull my digitaltelephone out of my pocket; I search for the planet; then, holidays.

She´s right–it is a holiday!

“Ok”, I reply as I put my device back into my pocket, “you´re right.”

As a second thought, I pull it out again.

“But are the school´s closed?”

HR looks away; she turns her head back to me.

“No”, she replies, “the school´s are not closed, instead, I got good grades and was granted an extra day of vacation for the holiday.”

“HR”, I reply as I lean back in the chair and put my hand in the bag of potato chips, “why weren´t you just honest with me?”

“Because it doesn´t really matter”, she replies as she leans forward and picks up her digitalsoda, “I think you need to learn to trust people.”

I pause; she´s right.

Jamie Smith
therenegadeinc@gmail.com

It's all about the story, man.



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