[8 of ] Emma did not wait for Mercedes to bring tea. She burst the front door open & grabbed the headline of the afternoon paper with her eyes. Her fingers fumbled frantically to turn the telephone dial in the foyer. She heard his voice on the line. "Artie. Artie," she gasped like a goose being fed for foie gras. "We’ve got to ... Did you see the paper?" The shadow came through the doorway like a leopard. The telephone line snapped from the wall. The receiver clattered on the floor.
~ series by Jere Fletcher, (c) 2011
[9 of ] Havana was hot like a drum skin in Club Tropicana on a Saturday night. He ran up the stairs of the pensione. His breath heaved & sweat ran from his brow. Even his hands felt wet. On the fourth landing, he looked out the balcony. Across the street below, the one-legged man stood under the lamp post & smoked. He had a peg leg below the knee & tapped the stump. He paused, resumed tapping, paused & tapped. Hammer’s hand slipped off the door knob as it turned.
~ series by Jere Fletcher, (c) 2011
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