Tribeca, New York, United States – December 11th, 2020
I peek out the window of my bedroom as soon as I wake up.
The black Mercedes is still parked in the same spot as last night, but I can’t tell whether there’s someone inside. My anxiety kicks in.
What the f**k do I do?
I need to get out of the car so I can get to work, and as much as I hate admitting this to myself, I’m scared.
I don’t want to call my dad, because it would just make him worry.
Maybe it’s not the same car. There are other people who drive those cars. Matteo drives one of those cars. Boris drives one of those cars. Everyone drives those cars.
Drinking coffee only makes matters worse, but I can’t function without a cup. Once I’m done with my morning cigarette, I decide that I’m going to call in sick at work.
I use
