The Infra-Materialism of Physicality
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Summary
Harry ducks into the Whirling-in-Rags bathroom, locks the door, and sits on the closed toilet. He takes the pill bottle out again.
LOGIC: Problem, detective. There is precisely one pill left. Which leaves you two to three days before a potential medical emergency.
VISUAL CALCULUS: The date of the prescription is February 15th, ’51. It is March 12th, ’51. If you took the pill every odd numbered day in February and every even numbered day in March, that would mean that you, while blitzed out of your fucking mind, were still taking them diligently enough to be right on schedule for a mid-month prescription fill.
PERCEPTION: This mattered to you. A lot.OR
Harry forgets the fundamentals of basic reality, and finds one more mystery along with all the others: Lymbo-Hormonal Inhibitors in his pocket. There is only one pill left.
Series
- Part 1 of The Infra-Materialism of Physicality
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SHIVERS: A cold wind whips across Grand Couron, barreling into southern Jamrock, rattling the plastic Frittte sign above your head, pulling the city’s nightly odors and sounds with it. Exhaust fumes, spilled beer. The sterile, unrelenting fluorescent hum of the Southern Jamrock Clinic, three blocks away. Inside, a plump receptionist turns the deadbolt on the glass front door. In the back office, a man slides a key into a heavy metal filing cabinet, grabs his bag, and turns out the lights.
They are gone.
Harry stares at the street leading back to the clinic.
PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT: Stop trying to pussy out. This isn’t about just you, anymore. Pull on the string. See where it leads. You are an RCM lieutenant double-yefreitor of the 41st precinct. This is what you do. This is who you are.
AUTHORITY: You have an investigation to conduct.Series
- Part 2 of The Infra-Materialism of Physicality