Pasha pulled his wife’s still buzzing phone from the charger and stared at the unlock screen. For the last several years, without fail, her phone buzzed at six in the morning and five in the evening. No matter how many combinations he tried it refused to yield and instead displayed the same goddamned ENTER PIN message over and over. He put the phone in his pocket and turned to his toolboxes. Shrouded in the gloom of the dimming lights he stood there mechanically pounding his fist on each toolbox as he turned the locks. “Merry Christmas Pasha,” Nick said. Pasha turned to Nick squaring his shoulders, “Yeah, you too.” “You know we’re going to have a big get together at my place tomorrow and you’re welcome…” “Yeah, is your mom’s gonna be there? Bet she’s still talking about me. Oh Pasha, yes, yes! Nick never gives it to me like this!” “Fuck you! You don’t have to be an asshole every day of the week.” “I got friends and family. I don’t need your charity.” “Against my b...
Original stories and poems by Patrick James