I was stuck in traffic, just a block from my office, with not a moment to spare.
Agents had been spotted. Was this tie-up just a ruse? They desperately wanted the key; the formula to turn hydrogen into potable water available through several delivery systems.
Even with the A/C at full blast, I felt feverish. Perhaps I should have accepted the escort.
Suddenly, a man, dressed like a beggar, slammed into my car. His lips were chapped, his skin sunburned. He looked shriveled, as if all the water had been sucked out of him.
No doubt an agent. I casually reached down. I could be getting money or a gun. I was retrieving a souvenir of my last encounter. A large heavy hard stone. Glass can be replaced; keys to hydrogen transformation not.
Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Wordle #38, December 8, 2014