Entering the restaurant I sensed the odor, tobacco smoke and olive oil, garlic and basil mingling with my fear.
“Right through… he’s in his office,” the fedora-man hissed; pressing the gun into my back.
They’d picked me up when leaving work.
“Tony … now”. he’d growled before pushing me into his ancient Mercedes and drove off through seedy backstreets.
I didn’t know any Tony.
Thoughts raced through my head while thinking of Maria waiting for me..
Tony was a burly sunglassed man and he rose from the desk to hug me.
“My Son-in-law… finally”.
Maria slipped up behind me. Smiling.
I’m still behind on my commenting from last week, but I had to write to this as soon as I saw it. I’m sure that this is not a bad restaurant, but I simply had to do a story where I could twist it back to normallity in the end.
Friday Fictioneers is a group that Rochelle runs. 100 word, one picture. and story. Keep it short and tight. If you want to read more stories like this click here.
For those of you who are interested we have the Prosery challenge at dVerse.
August 21, 2019