Jonathan watched the hall in surprise. There were people inside, lots of people, more than two hundred maybe, but no one seemed interested in one another. The usual buzzing sounds of a party was absent. The only human sounds came from behind him, from a restaurant where employees were talking in loud and quick Dutch. From the hall came nothing but the clicking of keyboards. Most people were male and most of them wore faded Tees or wrinkled shirts. And all of them had a large square badge on a lanyard, dangling on various sizes of potbellies. At every table stood three, four, five men and the occasional women, all hammering away on laptops. He spotted more men, sitting on the floor and leaning…
Mina Witteman – author | editor | teacher of creative writing
Posts from the “Books” Category
The blue-striped marquees were lowered, guarding every hotel window from sun and prying eyes, like standing soldiers. Jonathan squeezed past some cabs that blocked the entrance and climbed the steps to the revolving door. With a mixture of distaste and envy he regarded the extravagant luxury inside. Men, all suited up and smug-smiled, hurried past him. More subservient men, some in livery even, schlepped to and fro with suitcases and bags. They all ignored him, drilled as they were to single out guests with generous tips in their pockets from the occasional shabby visitor. Jonathan fought the urge to turn and run, forced himself to step towards the front desk. More men in suits swarmed the floor, cluttering at the polished marble counter. Three receptionists checked guests…
Tagged: Amsterdam, Dark Fiber, de Eland, Feuilleton, Krasnapolsky, New York, Silicon Valley, thriller, Turing
“Dallas Bard.” Jonathan read the name out loud. He gazed up and watched a canal boat glide by. Smoke, stinking of frying fat, wafted up from it. Tourists snapped pictures of the gables, of him. In a reflex, he hunched up as small as he could, as he was used to ever since the book came out. He straightened up again, when the boat disappeared under the bridge. One day, he would get back at her. One day, he would tell his side of the story and show everyone what a world-class bitch she was. But he needed his notebooks. He’d plotted his revenge in his notebooks. He stared at the container with identical business cards. Nothing came up. He didn’t know a Dallas Bard. The…
Undefined piano music trickled from the speakers. Café De Eland was deserted except for two elderly people sipping cappuccinos at the reading table in the back. Mark wasn’t around, his place behind the bar taken by the bald-shaven guy whose name Jonathan always forgot. “Jonathan, what can I do for you?” The bartender lifted a beer glass of a stack and held it to the tap, his other hand resting on the shiny black knob. “No, no. Nothing. I–I think I left my bag here. Last night. When I left.” Jonathan looked around. No bag. Not near the corner where he usually sat, not near the coat rack. “Did you find it? Did Mark find it?” The bartender threw an unconvincing look behind the bar. “Nope, nothing here.” “Are…
Tagged: Amsterdam, Café de Eland, Dark Fiber, Feuilleton, New York, Silicon Valley, thriller, Turing
It was deep into the afternoon when he woke up again. The hangover had subsided to a faint thumping behind his eyes. The cold shower chased away that too. Jonathan crammed a slice of stale bread into his mouth. He sank into the couch and stared out the living room window. The building across was still boarded up. Laser 3.14 had tagged the plywood with black spray paint: ‘but you also had a bad day yesterday.’ Sometimes, on days like today, it felt as if that Laser 3.14 guy knew him and had tagged the board on purpose, to piss him off, possibly at his ex-girlfriend’s request. She’d do that. The crazy, vindictive bitch. She’d love to hurt him. His gaze traveled away from the tag, back…
Tagged: Amsterdam, Dark Fiber, Feuilleton, New York, Silicon Valley, thriller, Turing
JONATHAN The pounding in his head started at the first ray of daylight that found its way through the flimsy curtains and forced his eyes open. The vile taste of bile scorched his throat, paralyzed him. Jonathan closed his eyes again. In the apartment above his, the running feet of a cat jackhammered the wooden floor, accompanied by the ticking of high heels. He followed the sound as it moved away to the far end of the apartment. His upstairs neighbor went for her morning boost. He pulled the pillow over his head and covered his exposed left ear, praying that it would be Brahms or whatever, but within seconds, Leaf’s ‘Wonder Woman’ blared through her floorboards, his ceiling, pierced the pillow and set off blasts…
Tagged: Amsterdam, Dark Fiber, Feuilleton, New York, Silicon Valley, thriller, Turing
“You said it.” “What’you find out at his place? Anything that could mess up things?” Matt shook his head. “He’s the man, V. You did a fine job,” he said. “No significant other, no job. A loser.” She beamed like a schoolgirl hauling in an A from her favorite teacher. “Just followed your list, Turing. Loser. Check,” she said and she counted the items on his wish list with her fingers. “Mid-twenties. Check. No wedding band. Check. Scruffy clothing. Check. Reasonably proficient in English. Check.” Matt nodded at every ‘check’. “I’ll get the stories we prepared out into the world, see if we can bring the Giddyap stock back up.” She pulled her iPad from her purse. “Maybe…” She interrupted him before he could finish. “It’s…
Tagged: Amsterdam, Dark Fiber, Feuilleton, New York, Silicon Valley, thriller, Turing
Mina Witteman 