Friday evening, August 21, 2015 | 82 days until the conference | 157 registrations

‘Hey, digi-illiterate, how’s things?’ Dick was practically inaudible, with all the background noise drowning out his voice on the phone: laughter, music, clinking glasses.

           Victor looked at the clock. It was five thirty, he had half an hour before he was supposed to meet his friends at the Crippled Horse. He never missed after-work-drinks on Friday.

           ‘I tried WhatsApping you, why don’t you have that?’ Dick said. ‘Anyway, the weather’s great, so we met up an hour early. We’re outside on the terrace.’ He whistled into his phone, Victor winced and moved the phone away from his ear.

           ‘You should see all the eye candy passing this place.’

           ‘It’s pretty busy at the office,’ Victor began, noticing Casper through the open door, who was peering intently at his computer screen.

           ‘Oh, come on, live a little. You’re the boss, aren’t you? Delegate, man! It’s pretty much the first thing we learned to do at our MBA, and that’s over twenty years ago.’ Dick’s voice suddenly sounded far away. ‘Yeah, go on’ Then he spoke into the phone again: ‘We’re on our second round already, take a break. It’s the first time, since the end of the holidays, we’re all together. Stella was asking for you already. I am ordering you a beer as we speak.’

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Written by Gerrit Heijkoop & Paula Vos

Narrated by Kevin Stillwell