The Odd Thing
Copyright© 2023 by Old Man with a Pen
Chapter 1
Straight off the bat, I was confused.
Really.
Not particularly unhappy ... I was warm. Recently ... like seconds ago ... I’d been cold, and this was way better than looking forward to another Michigan Lake front winter.
However ... no Chicago ... no buildings, no Navy Pier, no concrete Lake Front Trail ... and sand-dunes behing me. I might not be in Chicago.
Probably not ... the trees are palms ... hmm. I am not in a panic ... yet. Before I do ... I should check the purse ... A .32 revolver is no kind of gun for real work.
“Hey!”
A female voice ... not young ... not old ... a college age voice.
Hmm:? I wasn’t alone.
If I had my ‘druthers about who was going to share my dream ... a college aged woman fit nicely. I turned to see.
Hooboyhowdy...”What?” A babe.
“That’s my purse.”
“Not now ... I found it on the sidewalk.”
“Well ... it’s mine and I want it back.”
I dumped it out on the picnic table that wasn’t there a second ago.
Whoever was running my life now knew what he/she/whatever was doing. I knew I didn’t want to dump my purse on the sand ... and a table with benches showed up.
I thanked the air. “Thanks.”
“Yer Welcome.” First time ever I got an answer.
I sat.
There was 4 fifty round boxes of .32 extra long rim assorted hollow-points. No manufacture I’d ever heard of.
She came running ... quite the bounce in her low-cut toOoOoOop. Out even ... once. Nice. Pink tiny nipples. Nice. She looked to be running with intent. Collision? Maybe?
The width of the table was between us ... length would have been better ... but ya takes what ya can get ... got.
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