Peter turned to look at the phone. A grey skin of dust encrusted its perspex frame. It was one of those old style phones with the round plastic ring and the clicker with the numbers displayed in little holes. It kinda reminded him of the show wheel of fortune every time he used it.
"The phone is ringing Peter." His wife's voice jarred him out of his thoughts, almost as irritating as the phone. He sighed, that phone showed his age, and the ringer was so loud and jangly it set his teeth to aching.
"Yeah yeah, I can hear it."
"Well, get it then you grumpy old sourpuss."
He lifted his fingers from the keyboard, loath to step away in full flow and he hung there a moment in limbo. Terrence was just about to find out where Helen had stashed the body and his mind raced with different possibilities for the plot line. It was always this way when it came to the crux that tantalizing place where everything coalesced into a whole.
Fuck it, my thoughts are all scattered now anyway.
As he started up from the desk his mobile beeped. Pulling his phone from the pocket of his jeans he glanced down at the incoming text.
Pick up the phone. We need to talk, Helen!
The end.
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