Anne and Shade stood on the beach, looking out at the Atlantic Ocean. Shade thought there was a sort of beauty to it. The waves rolled in, then they rolled out. It was the perfect metaphor for crime. The money would roll in, but then it would leave, only to come again. You gave and you got, you stole and you spent. Shade told herself she was part of the bedrock of the economy.
Anne just thought it was fucking cold out.
“Your guy gonna be here soon?” Anne asked, shivering.
“He’ll be here.”
“Yeah, but is he going to be here soon?”
“He’ll be here,” Shade said. “Soon-ish.”
“You don’t have any idea, do you?”
“Phone ran out of battery, so I don’t know what time it is.”
“Mhm,” Anne said.
“You?” Shade asked.
“Same,” Anne said. “They should make phones with better batteries.”
Shade smiled. “Or you could’ve not played so much Candy Crush on the way over here.”
After several moments of silence, Anne said, “They should make phones with better batteries.”
MEGAPULP 