The Hunt for Higgs’ Bos’n: IV, for #smalltales

She took a seat but wouldn’t take any whiskey. I poured her measure in my glass and held it no more loosely than she held the pistol.

“Explain this to me, Kurt.”

Her free fingers brushed past her chest and pulled a folded photo from inside the dress.

The creases were stiffer than a priest’s promise – she clearly hadn’t looked at it much. The photo was from far, I had to squint to make out the detail. Photo was of me, all right, passing a picture to another guy: hitman by the name of Al Cold. A picture of Luce.

Advertisements
The Hunt for Higgs’ Bos’n: IV, for #smalltales

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s