the smuggler’s bible


Keiko stops and takes a break. Ten minutes tops. When she returns, the boxes have unpacked themselves and every book and knick knack is back on the shelf.

She takes a deep breath and considers briefly what crime she might have committed to deserve such punishment, then calls the landlord.

“Fuck,” he says. Keiko can hear a grinding noise and loud voices in the background. “I thought this was dealt with.”


“So I’ll send a guy over.”

“I’m not paying for that, it isn’t in the lease.”

“You couldn’t afford it, sister. If it’s gremlins, it takes a pro.”