Good morning all and welcome to Friday morning. I am feeling surprisingly awake this morning. I think my body is finally getting used to getting up before the sun. I still think rising before the sun is a ridiculous notion, but no one seems to be listening to me. Do you know Tudor era monasteries used to change the length of the hours based on the length of daylight. Mostly because of prayers but still not a bad shift. But as much as I object to waking up in the dark (and yes I realize that I probably still would have had to wake up in the dark in a Tudor world) I seem to be adjusting. So with the mind envisioning clocks that adjust to daylight, let’s jump into this morning’s prompt shall we?
I think there is a lot missing from this. Things I’d need to sit down and think about before I actually wrote more on it. I like some of the possible ideas in it though. It just needs some time to marinate in the brain a bit.
Friday, October 22nd: The car was reversing at speed.
The car was reversing at speed. It was strange to see a car zip past the window in reverse and I couldn’t help getting up from my place behind the counter to see what was going on. It wasn’t as if anyone was there to care if I left my post. Our bookshop rarely saw visitors. From the outside it looked as though it was closed. In fact it looked as though it had been closed for decades at this point.
I crossed the room, reaching the window just as a second car raced by. This one was moving at speed as well, but it was at least facing the right direction. I caught a view of the driver. He was a bald man with a dragon tattoo. It looked as though the dragon was climbing his scalp to reach his grown, the tail wrapped around his neck. The image was clear even though the driver’s face was a blur. I shook my head.
Sirens sounded. They weren’t too far off by the sound and growing louder by the second. Waited in place and sure enough two law enforcement vehicles drove past, sirens wailing loud enough to shake some of the dust from the stacks. They weren’t the city law enforcement. They were the private contractors that the new officials hired about a month ago. The sight of them shook me to the bones.
There were stories.
Moving more on instinct than anything else, I slipped to the front doors, locked and bolted them. That morning I forgot to twist the sign from closed to open so I simply left it in the closed position. I walked back behind the counter and grabbed my bag. I continued through the back rooms and out of the back door. I didn’t know what was going on and I no longer wanted to.
Harris may have wanted the bookstore kept open during the usual hours but he also left strict instructions regarding the new contractors and their affairs. It generally boiled down to stay out of their business and out of their sight.
I left through the back door, locking it behind me and quickly headed down the back alley. I stepped into a connecting one and followed the maze of shadowy paths away from the store and to my apartment building. It was too early for anyone to be home from work at the moment and the city’s cameras had been busted several weeks prior and not yet replaced. No one saw me arrive home.
As I entered my apartment, I realized I was holding my breath as I moved. I closed and bolted my door behind me. Once secured, I let out a shaky breath. I took my bag to the couch and rummaged around in my bag until I found my phone. I called Harris.
“Don’t tell me,” he said as he answered. “There is a run on detective novels?”
“Not exactly,” I replied. I told him of the chase and my leaving the store.
“You are home now?” he said, all teasing gone from his voice.
“Yes.”
“Anyone see you?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Building is secured?”
“Yes.”
There was a long pause. “Take the next three days off. Then call me and I’ll let you know if you can go back.”
“Okay,” I replied. Harris hung up and I swallowed hard as I lowered my phone. My heart was still beating hard.
Ten til Midnight 