Serial Fiction
Suckers’ Roulette | Chapter 2
Inflection Point
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Bellevue, Washington, USA. February, 2106
Sarah’s tablet dinged a notification: Tommy, texting her from the bathroom. She hadn’t noticed that he’d gotten up from the table. She’d been looking past him, past his empty tea mug, past the smattering of English muffin crumbs on and around his empty plate, past the frost-rimmed window, at the trees outside. The evergreens, boughs laden, white with snow, rose from the white ground to the white sky — -a bas relief of winter. A generation ago, lowland snows west of the cascades were so rare that cities like Bellevue and Seattle hadn’t even kept snowplows; there was so little need to clear the roads. Back then, a few inches of snow could paralyze the entire city. She laughed at the thought of it.
She lifted her tablet to read Tommy’s message.
Tomasz: I think this would be good for you:
He’d sent a link with a picture of that arch in the park in Greenwich Village: The Arthur Carter Journalism Institute — -Certificate in Data Journalism, it said.
Sarah: New York? Really?
Tomasz: Sure. Or remote, school, if you want. But I think it would be good for you to go. There’s…
