"You are detective, right?"asked the Russian cabbie. "You can't be husband or boyfriend, not of chick like that. I mean, pardon me, but you don't look like sugardaddy, and the hair you comb back is covering bald spot not too good. Is giving you middle-aged ratty look, know what I'm saying?"
"You're very observant," said Merkouros, looking at the broad-featured cabbie smiling at him in his mirror. "I'm a private detective," he added, only half lying. Could he tell him that he worked for the Federal Police, City of New York—but not of this New York? If that ex-Muscovite thought he had had a hard time landing on his feet in merely a different city of his own spatiotemporal framework, then what would he think of someone who'd had to relocate to a different dimension—from the New York of Plane 1 to this treacherously different "New York" of Plane 7—to a world where one's fundamental values were as untranslatable as one's money was inconvertible?
"That's her!" shouted Merkouros, pulling back from the window. "In that black dress half up her thighs. You see? She's looking this way. She sees this cab is taken. She'll go to the corner and pick up another cab. When she does, don't lose her."
Brain and Breakfast by Daniel Pearlman
- Paperback: 71 pages
- Publisher: Sams Dot Publishing; January 2011
- Language: English
- Product Dimensions: 5.5x8.5 inches