LANDLINE PASCOM

Simon Vincent, a man troubled by the monotony of his fastidious life, forever engulfed by the toxicity of neon is forced to take calls every night to due the bidding of these antediluvian fellows that plagued the soil of the ever blooming city of Pascom.

Number crunched, services extended, and with open arms with a clutch do these individuals feel safe behind the coils of their mask. But to what particular purpose do the numbers mean nor how they take refuge upon his own apartment every night?

All circumlocution best cut short when the phone rings. A beep on the line at the end of each calls made. Masks are worn, frenzies are spouted through the streams, and words are spoken. What are the calls for? Is it all in his own perception, the so called "destroyers" of his own body or is he playing the long cat and mouse game to the bidding of those people in the dark? or in addition, is there something virulent to the needles that could inoculate such moxie?