“She’s already moved on, dearie. But you have some work to do first. A lot of work.”
Veronica’s phone screen blinked steadily: NO SERVICE - TIME LIMIT EXCEEDED. She swallowed thickly. “No, we took separate flights, separate cabs…”
“You were together the whole time. You just didn’t notice she was there.” Ursula chuckled and touched Veronica’s hand with her glove. “If you’ll just come with me, I’ll explain everything.”
“NO!” Veronica jerked her arm away. “Get away from me, you BITCH!”
“Okay, have it your way,” Ursula said. Then she narrowed her eyes, and the tote bag slipped off Veronica’s shoulder and fell to the floor.
As Veronica went to retrieve it, she caught sight of herself in the circular mirror and froze. “No…” she whispered, staring in horror at her reflection.
A loud sob escaped her trembling black and blue lips. Veronica gasped at her sunken eyes, her missing teeth. She slowly wiped a hand across the green mold that dotted her face, smearing it.
“No, this can’t be happening!” Veronica cried as something sticky trickled down the back of her neck. She reached up and felt her mangled scalp. Shards of glass stuck out of her tangled hair, which was matted with blood. “But if I’m…I’m…where am I? What is this place?”
Ursula heaved a sigh. “Let’s just say you have a long afternoon ahead of you. Ready to go upstairs?”
###
About the author:
Mary L. Farmer is the author of several short stories and is currently working on a YA mystery/suspense novel. She holds a BA in Anthropology from the University of Illinois, so when she’s not writing or taking care of her family, you might find her ogling dusty artifacts at a local museum.
Connect with Mary Online:
Website: www.marylfarmerwriter.com
Twitter: @MaryLFarmer1
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Smashwords: Go to Mary's Smashwords Home Page
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Here’s an excerpt from SYMPHONiCity, a short ‘urban romance’ available at Smashwords:
Audrey Parker glanced up at the oversized clock in the small Chicago coffee shop as she wiped down the last metal table: 10:54PM. Only six minutes to go. Pushing in the vacant chairs, she surveyed the rest of the store with a practiced eye and nodded with satisfaction. Everything seemed to be in order. All she had left to do was count out the register and lock up.
“Hey Sherri…you wrap the cheesecake trays yet?” she asked.
“Yep. They’re covered.” The dark-haired girl behind the counter slid the door shut on the refrigerated display case. “You want me to sweep up one more time before I go?”
“No, that’s okay. Kevin can do it in the morning.”
“Okay.” Sherri leaned down to grab her purse from under the counter. “Then I’ll see you next—”
A loud screech sounded in the street outside. Sherri froze.
Audrey turned to see a glossy black Range Rover pull abruptly to the curb in front of the coffee shop’s door. Its hazard lights came on, sending yellow streaks of light blazing through the glass and across the polished wooden floor. All the doors of the vehicle simultaneously flew open and four African-American men tumbled out of the SUV. The front windows of the coffee shop shook as the heavy bass from the car’s tricked-out sound system pounded against them, drowning out the soft classical music playing inside the café.
Sherri slowly stowed her purse back where it was. “Um…Aud? Did you lock the door yet?” she asked anxiously.
“No,” Audrey said, “I was just about to.”
The men were clearly pissed off: they walked around in circles, stamping the sidewalk and shouting at each other. One of them whipped out his cell phone while the others crowded around the front tire, gesturing angrily at a slightly overweight man wearing a black knit cap and a Detroit Red Wings hockey jersey. Audrey didn’t need to hear what they were saying to know they were cussing up a storm.
“What are you waiting for? Lock the door!” Sherri hissed.
Audrey hesitated. Reason told her not to judge them. They were probably just four guys out for a cruise on a Friday night. But having spent the last ten hours on her feet, Audrey badly wanted to lock up and go home. After all, it was closing time.
“Hurry, Aud!”
“Yeah…yeah, okay.” But as she reached into her apron pocket for the store keys, the man on the cell looked over at her and they locked eyes through the window. Instinctively, Audrey backed up a step. His furious glare softened, but his expression remained impenetrable.
“Aud?”
The sound of Sherri’s voice grew distant as Audrey felt something shift inside her, and she was no longer nervous. Strangely, the man’s enigmatic stare intrigued her. Or maybe it was the way his ridiculously large, diamond-encrusted ring glittered under the street light while he nodded and talked on his cell, or the cut of his expensive-looking, designer leather jacket.
Audrey left the keys in her pocket. Instead of locking the door, she suddenly found herself tugging the bottom of her fitted black t-shirt over her jeans and tucking an errant strand of blond hair into her messy updo.
“Audrey!” Sherri cried. “Audrey, what is wrong with you? Lock the door!”
The man on the phone pointed to the coffee shop. His friends laughed and shook their heads. Irritated, he reached into the Rover and shut it off, then jammed the car keys in his pocket and went around slamming all the open doors. His friends shrugged and headed for the café.
Audrey turned and made her way through the maze of tables toward the counter. “I’m going to start a fresh batch of coffee.”
“You’re what?!” Sherri cried.
“They’re coming in.”
The Long Afternoon Page 3
