A Sketch by Jean-Pierre Martinez
The landlord waits behind his counter. A man, resembling a mobster or a dealer, arrives and takes a seat at the bar.
Landlord – What can I get you?
Him – A decaf. Long. With a drop of milk, please.
The landlord glances at the customer, whose appearance doesn’t quite match his order.
Landlord – I’ll see what I can do…
He prepares the coffee.
Him – This street is dangerous. I almost got run over by a bus.
Landlord – Yes… A woman was hit yesterday…
Him – Is she okay?
Landlord – She’s dead… Well, practically.
Him – Did you know her?
Landlord – She was a customer… She had just left my place, and according to the tests, she had three grams of alcohol in her blood.
Him – In your line of work, as well as mine, it’s better not to get too attached to customers.
Landlord – Are you new to the neighbourhood?
Him – I’m just passing through.
Landlord – We’re all just passing through Earth…
Him – I’m afraid mine might end sooner than expected.
Landlord – If you pay close attention when crossing the road…
Him – I just came out of the hospital. I’m waiting for a heart transplant…
Landlord – Ah, you too…
Him – Sorry?
Landlord – Oh, nothing, just a story I heard… I hope you came across the right surgeon…
The landlord places the coffee on the counter.
Landlord – Here’s your decaf with a hint of milk.
Him – How’s business going?
Landlord – It’s quiet. And you?
Him – Same here… It’s pretty calm at the moment…
Landlord – What line of work are you in?
Him – Drug trafficking. Mostly heroin.
Landlord – Ah, I see… So you know what it’s like to lose a customer.
Him – Fortunately, organ donations are anonymous, because I don’t know who would want to give their heart to a dealer.
Landlord – Or to a tobacconist.
Him – You’re right. In the end, we’re in somewhat the same line of work, both of us…
Landlord – Mmm…
Him – They just received a donor at the hospital.
Landlord – It’s your lucky day, then.
Him – I don’t know… There are two of us in the running.
Landlord – Ah…
Him – Would you give me your heart? If you were dead, I mean… Knowing what I do.
Landlord – Why not? Among dealers, if we don’t support each other a bit…
Him – I promised a suitcase full of cash to my surgeon if he finds me a brand new beating heart. Used bills, in small denominations. Do you think it might help?
Landlord – It depends on the surgeon, I suppose.
Him – This one has a reputation for jumping at anything that moves.
Landlord – I see… Can I pour you another decaf with a splash of milk? It’s on me.
Him – Cheers… You only live once…
Landlord – And if your heart gives out on your way, it won’t be because of what you drank here…
Black.
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A sketch from the collection Open Hearts
Link to the collection for free download (PDF)
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