A Roll Of The Dice - 04
This series of narrative fiction is based on random words that are picked via dice rolling.
Achievement • Dose • Scenario • Stress • Hardware • Coffin • Preparation
If you told me I’d be building coffins when I grew up, I probably would’ve started with yours. It’s not even the dead people that scare me, it’s the live ones. People come in asking for coffins for every scenario. I never ask too many questions of course, but that doesn’t stop them sharing. The specific hardware they want it built with, the exact measurements, the material.
And hey, I’m all about preparation. You can never plan for death too early. That’s how I make my living, ya know?
But the amount of stress these guys cause me when they walk in talking about three coffins here, two coffins there, this one needs to be waterproof, this one needs to be too dark to see any staining…
Suffice to say, I don’t wanna know what happens behind closed doors.
My old man used to say it was a real achievement, what we’d built here with this business. He was a real fire and brimstone type. Never liked him much, but he gave my ma a house to live in and never hit her, so that was good enough for me.
Speak of the devil, here come a few regulars.
A Roll Of The Dice - 04
“And hey, I’m all about preparation. You can never plan for death too early. That’s how I make my living, ya know?”
“I gave him a full dose, he’s not walkin’ out of that bar.”
“I told ya to give him half!”
“Half wouldn’t have done it, you seen that mothafucker? Big as a horse and just as dumb.”
“What can I do for you today, gentlemen?” I stay behind the counter.
“Oh hey Skinny. Yeah, we’ll need a big one today.” The first of the two measures with his arms to almost his full wingspan. “’Bout this big,” he says, and laughs.
“Shut it Willy, ya dipshit. It’ll be…“ He goes on to tell me the exact measurements of what they’ll need.
“When you need it by?”
“Oh uh, bout two hours? How long that shit take to work, Willy?”
“Well I gave ‘em a full dose, so uhhh. Prolly ‘bout 30 minutes. Poor fuck,” Willy trails off in a weak laugh.
“Sure thing gents, I’ll have that right out.”
“Thanks Skinner. We’ll pour one out for the old man tonight, huh?” They leave to go douse themselves with liquor. Can’t blame ‘em, it’s rough work: painting houses an’ all.
Probably should’ve mentioned that I work for the mob.
