And with that, Lucas heard the click of the receiver and Barney, his partner in crime, confidant and one true north, really was gone, this time.
Puffing out his cheeks, Lucas looked across at his laptop and with something not quite approaching motivation, thought longingly about scoping out a few ideas for a plot.
He’d gotten about half-way across the room, before stopping, breaking wind ferociously and then turning back, having decided that there was no need to rush into anything. To do so would be foolish.
Instead, he would make a start tomorrow.
Meanwhile, out of sight, Barney, sat, on the other side of the fall-out from the telephone call that had just taken place.
His body hunched over a stool in his twenty-five-grand kitchen, holding his head in his hands, swearing like a convict on the verge of something violent, and praying that somehow, his golden ticket to unimaginable riches might conjure up just a little of that old black magic of yore.
Once more with feeling, baby……
Just one last deep-dive into the long-lost word palaces of his mind, plunging the depths of his soul to reveal where the good stuff, the gold dust, was hidden.
Barney, realised that he was a victim of the stories that we tell ourselves.
Like the drunkard who wants that one last drink, whilst knowing that there’ll always be another and the holy man that secretly lost his faith years ago, whilst still preaching with a straight face to the faithful.
Living a lie had almost become his happy place and Barney had never been a stranger to playing fast & loose with the truth.
He no longer believed in his partner’s groove, although he didn’t dare tell Lucas so.
And so instead, he lied to himself, because it was easier, and prayed, when no one else was looking, that things might somehow, once again come good.
