For Want of a…

Red stared down at the confession letter in front of him. It contained neither his thoughts nor his feelings, but it did contain his crimes. Enough of them at least. It was impossible to get off scot-free unless his lawyer also happened to be a miracle-worker. The letter represented guilt, but it was also his best hope of getting his life back on track.

“Do the right thing, Red,” the man in the suit with a blue tie said as he leaned over Red. 

“It’s for the best, Red,” the man in the suit with a green tie said from across the table.

“We’ve got your number. There’s no getting out of it.” 

Red’s vision grew misty as he extended a trembling hand and picked up the pen sitting beside the letter. He pressed it against the paper and—

“Hm?”

“Something the matter, Red?” Blue asked.

“The pen’s out of ink.” 

“What? Damn it.” 

Blue patted himself down. 

“I’ve got nothing. Green?”

Green patted himself down the same way. 

“Nothing.”

“Seriously?” 

Blue looked at the mirror on the wall opposite him. 

“Anyone got a pen?” 

A faint rustling noise came from the other side. Blue shifted his weight back and forth while Green fidgeted with a ring on his pinky finger. 

“Catch the game last night?” Blue asked. 

Green shook his head. “TV was on the fritz and it doesn’t look like the motel is going to do anything about it anytime soon.” 

Blue stopped shifting his weight and put his hands in his pockets. 

“Oh, uh, that’s real tough.” 

Green shrugged. 

“Not the worst thing that’s happened.”

They fell silent and Blue began swaying back and forth on his heels. 

“Guys. The pen,” he called.

A low buzz sounded from above the mirror and congealed into a voice. 

“Couldn’t find one. Got someone going for one right now.”

“For the love of—not a single pen in the whole frickin’ room,” he grumbled. 

“So how was the the game?” 

“Huh?”

“Last night’s game. How was it?” 

“Oh, I mean, I don’t want to tell you if you haven’t...”

“It’s fine. I don’t know when I’d get to see it anyway.”

“Yeah... Fair enough. It was a real good one. The team wasn’t doing so hot in the beginning, but they pulled it together. I remember, there was one point where the ref pulled out a yellow card. I was ready to put my foot through the TV. But, no. It was fine. They pulled out ahead.”

“That’s good.” 

“Yeah.”

Green went back to fidgeting with his ring. 

“You two talk at all?” 

“Nope?” 

“Not at all?”

“She blocked my number.”

“Oh, wow. That’s a... that’s rough.”

Green shrugged.

“Did someone find a pen yet?” Blue called. 

“Still working on it,” the voice responded. 

“Working on it? It’s a frickin’ pen!”

“We’re working on it.” 

“Working on it. Just stick your head out the door and ask for a pen,” Blue grumbled. 

“You doing ok at home?” Green asked. 

“Me? Well, there was some stuff we were arguin’ about, but it’s fine. You know how it—Oh, shit. I mean...”

“Don’t worry about it.” 

“Sorry. It’s just...”

“I’m telling you it’s fine.”

“Sure.”

Blue turned around and inspected the camera in the corner of the ceiling. 

“Look, um, maybe if you wanted, you could come over and watch the next game, have a couple of beers, you know?”

Green nodded.

“That’d be nice.”

“Not trying to make a thing out of it or anything. Just, y’know, if you feel like it.”

“I appreciate it.”

There was a knock on the door and someone poked their head in.

“Found one. It definitely works.” 

“About freakin’ time,” Blue snapped. 

He grabbed the pen and passed it to Red who signed his life away.