INTO THE BLUE
Thomas showed me to our usual table overlooking the dining terrace. David wasn’t there waiting for me.
I ordered a black coffee and took out my diary. The one I use for my regular job. I stared at the empty pages and thought about David, the way the blue of his eyes reflected whatever space he was in.
After 30 minutes, I began to feel concerned. After 45 minutes, Thomas asked me if I wanted to order something.
“Could you bring me the bill, please?” I said, wondering what space David was in now.
“Of course, Madam.”
I paid in cash, then rose, studying the crowd outside. Sunlight streamed through the latticework onto the tables. Everyone looked happy. No one looked towards me.
I walked casually through the restaurant, planning my next step. When an agent loses their handler, they must follow protocol. I sent a text.
“I’ve broken the heel of my shoe. Can you bring me another pair?”
“I’ve broken the heel of my shoe. Can you bring me another pair?”
“Sorry, I can’t.”
That was it then. The fragile wall separating me from disaster crumbled. I read the news on my phone: “Man killed in hit and run outside Opera identified as David Gold, software designer.”
I walked downhill from St Denis, into the Jewish Quarter, and deposited my message in the “Building fund” box outside an ancient synagogue, a £2 note.
I took the small valise from the locker I kept at Gare Du Nord, containing two changes of clothes and $50,000 in cash, and boarded the next train to Amsterdam.
In the lowlands, the blue water reflected a perfect image of the train. I wondered if David was really dead.
I knew I had been nothing more than a useful tool to him, but without him, I wasn’t sure what use I was to anyone.
I knew I had been nothing more than a useful tool to him, but without him, I wasn’t sure what use I was to anyone.
300 words suits you better than 100, I think. The way you place the subject in her environment is lovely and masterful.
ReplyDelete300 words really allows for a few more precious words. Adding instead of cutting. What a joy. I read the piece twice, I had to because there was a lot going on in there with visuals for me. Your story. Now I find myself worried for this one who just spirited away. I can feel the unrelenting insecurity that is slowing wrapping her it it's arms.
ReplyDeleteDavid...poor David dead as a door nail...or is he?
Very intriguing but still unsettling and made me begin to get nervous.. You did a great job subtly creating this tension growing.
Where is the pic? I have a story I need to write...it is about to pop out. xo sussin
Do you mean this coffee pick or a new picture? I am trying only to write our big stories - The Dream House, but I did this on a suggestion from Alex Wilson. However, thank you . I started with almost 800 words. They came out fast and I didn't realise how tiny 300 would turn out to be. It took a lot of editing to get the story to exist in only 300 words! Weird, isn't it? I mean writing. But it is all good practice. I want your DREAMHOUSE NOW!
ReplyDeleteThis is my first time wading through your words, and I am finding it a joyful venture. I like the 100, the 300, the various intricacies of prompts that spark your creativity. I like your writing style most of all. I will enjoy each visit as I continue to savour the flavour of your words.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much. I have been working on a novel and have not been doing my usual flash fictions, but your words of praise have inspired me to plunge in once more. Really. Thank you, Lindaura
ReplyDelete