In a Deadly Funk

This week’s photo prompt is provided by TJ Paris. Thank you TJ for our photo prompt

Evenings at six I claim the small table in the corner and sit nursing a glass of white chardonnay (only one small glass, never more.) Trying to make it last is part of the challenge;  then my glass is empty, the game is over and there is the walk home to a lonely apartment.

The waiting game. I play discreetly. When he appears I feign attention to my wine, and feel the cold steel in my pocket. He doesn’t look my way, but takes a place at the bar. He orders a beer and a whiskey chaser.

I still have a finger of wine left, but he is on already on his third. He downs his chaser, and orders another. He swivels on the stool and scans the room. He picks up his glass and swaggers in my direction.

My view of the door is obstructed tonight by the man in the large cowboy hat, so I miss the flash of the badge.

But the badge sees me rise to meet the embrace of the man who bends forward and falls to the floor with the knife in his chest.

I sip the last drop of wine. Game over. Tonight I will not go home alone.

11 thoughts on “In a Deadly Funk

  1. Pingback: Love at the Funky Munky | Alphabet Story

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