The Spy Beside Me
Doris sat near the front window of the dingy café, smoking a cigarette and waiting. Why am I here, she wondered. Why should I believe an anonymous phone call?Before long, the door of the pawn shop across the street opened and Frank came out, carrying a battered suitcase. Not his. Doris checked her watch. The timing was perfect. It's true. My life is a lie.
A seedy little man slid into the chair across the table. “So,” he said, his cultured voice at odds with his grubby appearance. “I have a lot to tell you about your husband.”
More Friday Fiction
From my friend, Jimmie Bise, Jr., Darleen Click, Smitty, Big Gator 5 and April.
1 comment:
Thanks for joining in! I like the story.
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