vignette

He put the book down, shook his head, then got up and approached the window. Another rainy day. That wasn’t so bad, really, the farmers could use it and so on and so forth and all that good-will-toward-man stuff. I’m just feeling down. And bored stiff. And completely disgusted that someone could write that kind of crap and get it sold, and yet here I am, a waaay better writer, and all I get is rejection slips. Sheesh. That bites...

He picked up the book he had just put down, shook his head again, and sneered as he tossed the thing in the trash. Good riddance... Then he snagged his coat off the hall tree, swung out the door, and headed down the front steps toward the park. Thank god his coat was water-proof and had a big hood which sloped just far enough past his eyebrows to keep the drizzle off his face. He needed to get out.

It was a quiet day, not many people in the streets, and the park was empty. He walked to the little shelter that was snugged into the trees and sat on one of the dry benches. If I can’t think of a plot here, I might as well throw in the towel... He let his mind wander, discarding scene after scene, until finally a few ideas started to jell.

Might as well start with a small, beribboned poodle in a large park... His eyes drifted past the trees, trying to find sinister underpinnings, as he absently noticed a dirty mutt nosing his way from bush to bush, totally unconcerned about the rain. A mysterious, darkly cloaked woman hurrying somewhere... He spied a thick stand of trees and bushes that looked perfect for nefarious activities. There was even an overgrown path leading into the snarls and brambles. The mutt lifted its head and gazed at a woman walking quickly down the sidewalk. She wore a brilliant red suit, a jaunty red hat, and sinfully high heels that made her legs go on forever. Her large umbrella was doing a good job of protecting everything from the rain except her gorgeous gams. Why did he never have a towel when he needed one?! Twice she dabbed at her face with her hanky and he wondered if it was the rain or if she was crying. Now there’s someone I’d like to be acquainted with...

He reluctantly refocused on his plot. An old jalopy parked close to where the woman walks past... Danger nearby... Boys playing a game of touch football, grappling as the ball gets knocked into the tangle of bushes... A shot rings out... He noted again that no one was out-and-about on this grey day. No one except the woman who would be passing near him soon. And, oddly enough, a black limo that was slowly creeping along the edge of the park. Where did that come from and who would be out cruising on a day like this... He tried to get his mind back on-track but his attention was diverted by a loud bang. Snapping his head toward the noise, he scanned the streets but saw nothing. Looking a bit longer, he finally decided it must have been a back-fire. Haven’t heard that in a long time...

He turned back to watch the woman walk by but she was gone. What the... He craned his neck, then stood up and checked every direction. Nothing was moving. Nothing except the mutt, who was sniffing and whining softly. What... He started off toward the mutt, then noticed the splash of bright red on the ground. Picking up his pace, he heard the squeal of tires as a vehicle raced away, and then he saw her on the ground ... the woman in the suit had been shot, the blood from her wound darkly staining the red material. “Move back, pooch, let me take a look.” Her eyes were closed, but she was breathing and he thought maybe it was just a shoulder hit. Still ... he slipped his cell phone out of his pocket and punched in 9-1-1. This is weird, man, just too weird...