A Year of Stories (Collection Two)

Never Enough Time

"Right, plenty of time..."

She kisses me on the forehead, and walks away to her office.

I pick up one of the kitchen knives we bought off of the Internet last year, and place it in the waistband of my slacks. It has a full tang with partial bolster, which I guess is knife-talk for sharp.

11:35 AM

I lied to Susan.

Technically, I've lied to her every morning for the last several weeks.

Truthfully though, it's not like she'll ever know the difference.

I don't enjoy deceiving her, but explaining where I'm really going would be...complicated, and I don't have nearly enough time for that.

I don't have nearly enough time.

Luckily, the roads are surprisingly empty.

The reason this is surprising, is the same reason I spent days on a stretch listening to my phone ring – some people are smart, some people are brave, most people are neither – I fall into this latter category. This is probably also why I haven't figured a way out of this mess by now.

I feel like a smarter or braver version of myself would have done something definitive, weeks ago. Instead, I get to run around with an Internet knife in my back pocket, lying to the only person I've ever really cared about.

At least I'm almost there.

12:01PM

The building is just outside of the city – low, squat and made entirely of concrete – Warren Industrial Dynamics.

It could be a warehouse.

It's not a warehouse.

I know that sounds mysterious, but I need you to understand that there is nothing at all mysterious about this place. Type "Warren Industrial Dynamics" into your browser, and you'll find directions that will lead you right to their front door, though you would never have reason to do that.

If you went to their website, which you also wouldn't do, you would discover that they design wind turbines for large, industrial customers around the world.

The complex I'm pulling into, is one of their regional office parks, about a half mile off of the Interstate – there is a Denny's right down the street, and a supermarket on the corner.

I think the sheer banality of it all, is what makes this place so perfect.

You don't know to be afraid of something hiding in plain site.

I walk inside.