When I opened my eyes again, the spot of light had climbed up the opposite wall. I tried to calculate how long I’d been unconscious—three hours, perhaps? Then I remembered the dream: last Wednesday, lunch with Anyssa—the bistro on Avenida Mistral. We had just ordered a bottle of cheap Chardonnay when a short, balding man stepped out of the sidewalk crowd and approached our table. He clutched a black book against the lapel of his shiny gray suit.
“Señor Vicente, I’m very s-s-sorry to interrupt your meal,” he said. “But I must discuss a matter of g-great importance.”
Note: See But Wait! There’s More…. for an explanation of the 100 Words project. Read the previous installment or the next one.
© 2008 Edward F. Gumnick
Tee-hee!! It’s a grabber. I like the stutter.