Exit Interview


Lazlo didn’t have to read the note to know he was screwed.

The sealed white envelope, alone on the otherwise spotless mahogany desk, told him everything.  He assumed it contained a pithy remark or a morbid pun, but Lazlo was too damn tired to read the Old Man’s grim joke.  Making a 30-story vertical ascent up the glass skin of a skyscraper could do that to a guy.  So he just stood there dripping sweat on the crimson carpet of a dark room, with a glass cutter around his neck, a coil of rope around his waist, and a twenty-pound pack on his back…staring at the desk, feeling exactly like a man in his shoes should feel.

Screwed.

“Hello, Lazlo,” came a quiet voice from across the room.

The thief’s head dipped and only half-turned toward the source.

“Vince.  Figured it’d be you.”





About me

This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)