Wednesday, November 12, (Same Day), 1:15pm

Holy shit writing about my mother seems to have warped space and time. I had no clue how late it is until I stepped away a few minutes ago. I wonder if there’s a phrase or word for that… when time seems to both stop and speed up at the same time. That made no sense. 

I just texted Clayton, Maurice’s chief lieutenant to see if had a dime on, ya know, a time that boss dickwad might want to meet but he said to stay tuned. This now puts my meeting with Levi at Los Tacos Amigos in jeopardy. The entire reason for that meeting is, to me, of far more importance than any horse shit Maurice has to say, which probably involves war games with some Mickey Mouse outfit in fucking East L.G. that isn’t even worth our time. The master loses his touch more with each passing day.

But no, the reason for the Levi meeting is this: What the fuck is that thing on the billboard? If anyone can tell me answers to the questions I have, then it, unfortunately, is Levi. Dude has more recall of the past than anyone in this city (or this life, even, for that matter), and that’s something I can put to good use right now.

You know what, all this talk of that electrical tower out beyond Barstow just gave me an idea. Brb.

Okay, I just called the hall of records for Laredo County after looking it up on the computer. Despite it saying their hours are Monday through Friday, from 8am to 5pm, there was no answer. I left a message saying I’m a surveyor with a neighboring country that needs to pull some already used construction permits and a land map along the route of those power lines a few miles east of Barstow. Lets see if they call back.

Frank Perrotto
Author Works


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