on the line: corporate guard dog. caucasian. male. alpha: probably in some light blue collared shirt.haughty brandy kind of fucker. womaniser. protective of trade secrets.
on the line, next to me: my baby. used to be my sister, chubby faced and big hair: speaking in a fake accent. lying. “i’m from s__s___ technologies” trying to extract crucial codes from alpha.
the dog can see through the lies in the voice. I take the phone from baby. tell him the truth.
“listen” i say, “she’s a student. doing research.” etcetera etcetera
we are on a concrete jetty. I put my headphones back on, listening in for the pulse. the line has gone silent. only waves left (its image, not its sound.) i’ve done the best i can. I’m not sure if we got the codes.