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Tuesday, December 6, 2011

From "Being Someone Else" by J. R. Lindermuth

Cpl. Harry Minnich is waiting for an informant who is late in arriving:

It had rained overnight and dark clouds still hung over the hills in the distance. With his cruiser window open Harry heard a steady drip of runoff from a broken downspout somewhere behind him.

The wail of sirens rent the still damp air. There was an occasional sound of machinery or the muted voices of workmen from the building in progress across the road. An UPS truck turned the corner and came up the road past him. Then the sirens were nearer and he saw the flashing lights and heard the clamor as a fire engine hurried by. A slight breeze rustled the cover over a stack of building materials near the office project.

Harry sighed and checked his watch. Nine-thirty. Surely she should have been

A movement in his mirror caught his attention. He swung around in his seat and saw a girl coming across the parking lot from where she’d parked a green Toyota. She wore a yellow raincoat with a hood and he couldn’t make out her face. She held what looked like a briefcase under one arm.

As she came closer, the girl swept off the hood. It wasn’t Ronnie.

3 comments:

Jennifer Wilck said...

Great atmosphere and writing. Love it!

Paula Martin said...

Love all the sounds and sights in this, John.

jrlindermuth said...

Thanks, Jennifer and Paula.

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