Deadlines

Tue, 09 May 2006 09:19:57 GMT

I received a phone call yesterday. A prospective client on a Tuesday. I hate prospective clients and their air of indecision, what is specially annoying on the phone. The hesitation to tell you everything you'll have to eventually open up. A worried father, whose son relates being harassed by a boy who is always on the corner of his house, looking at his window at night. I was about to tell the man he should look for the police, or better, the Youth Judge so they could take care of the issue, but he said there was never anyone on that corner. He said this is where I could help. I asked him about possible problems of bullying in class. There is no word for that in Portuguese, but there is a behavior for that in Portuguese unfortunately. The man said it was the first thing he had asked his son. He denied. Asked about his age and he was thirteen. Instead of saying "right up my alley!" I tried to get more details, but he said he was in a hurry to go to work. I put his address down on my list and prepared for another venture.

Meire appeared tired the night before, an air of tedium I had never seen in her. Told her maybe she needed to travel, take some days to get away from routine. She said she had never pictured herself traveling alone; her husband couldn't, he was working like there was no tomorrow. I told her this freelance thing is going to kill him. In a freelance you overload yourself with work; you are the boss but got no employees. All you got are deadlines.

Book Of Nights: Brotherhood

Deadlines