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A quote: “Great perils have this beauty, that they bring to light the fraternity of strangers.” ~~ Victor Hugo
I’ll start with a story …
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“What is ‘odd duck’?”
I looked up from my paper where I struggled to keep track of the x’s as he had taught me.
“You’ve overheard mom, right?”
Nod.
I squirmed “It just means different. Like, you smile at the wrong time. Or stare when you shouldn’t.”
“I confuse her, correct?”
I didn’t like where this was going. We lived in broken-down apartments at the edge of town and he was my only, my best friend!
As if he caught my thought, he looked at me, reached to touch my face and smiled. A real, on-time smile.
And was gone.
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Now, it is your turn.
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. featured image, cropped, Adobe Stock standard license
While Roj pumped the gas, Maureen scanned the area, looking for anyone who might be paying a little too much attention to them. Nighttime fill-ups had a different set of risks. On one hand, there were fewer people around, and darkness did make it harder to see you. On the other hand, the people who were out and about tended to be more watchful, and the darkness made it harder for you to see them too.
Like that dude over there, leaning against a tree just beyond the gas station lot. Was he just hanging out, maybe waiting for a friend? Or was he watching them, trying to determine whether he recognized them, whether he should call in a tip.
And we still have almost two thousand miles still ahead of it, a good chunk of it through the desert Southwest.
Dupin says: Navig8r and I think my story should be a continuation of yours, and that I should add the line:
“I gave a toothy smile and pointed to the people pumping gas across the street the other way.”
What do you think? 😀
Navig8r says: Two AM on a Saturday morning and waiting. The cop was sympathetic when I told him that I had been dumped by my girlfriend, but if I wasn’t gone when he came back, he would arrest me for loitering or curfew violation. Time to break out that little airline bottle of booze and swish some around in my mouth. Need to spill some on my clothes too. Help make my story convincing. Shame to waste scarce booze that way, but OPSEC is critical. We need to get a message to our comrades in the city jail, and it’s my turn.
Dupin says: I know the joke about meeting the English girl on the third floor, but a gazebo is a gazebo. Still, she’s only five minutes late, which could be early.
Despite the security lights, a foggy night means lots of shadows, excellent for what I wanted. All-night café food never does anything for me, but she would. She’d be satisfactory for weeks.
“Hi!” She was next to me. That shouldn’t happen—I should’ve sensed her.
She stepped forward, her eyes on mine. I felt it even before she showed her fangs.
I showed her mine and she stopped.
“Shit. Now what?”
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