Huh? That smell, I know that smell somewhere my gramps used to smoke cheap cigars like that. Gramps. Hmphhh haven’t thought about that old geezer in years, died he did. I wonder where that smell is coming from. I can’t see a damned thing with no lights on, will someone turn some lights on. Hey why aren’t there shadows, even in the darkest rooms there are still shadows, why aren’t there shadows, what’s going on. HELLO…….HELLLLLLLLOOOOOOO, c’mon now this isn’t funny someone open my eyes, or even better light, yea light is what I need please someone has to be there I smell your smoke.
Light springs forth from the ground and envelopes a character leaning against apparent nothingness. A cheap cigar clasped in his pursed lips. He takes a few drags, and turns around.
“Funny things these cigars, they taste so gawd damn awful, but I can’t stop smoking them, and they make identification so much easier, you had me pegged kid, even as a lad sitting on my lap, I would puff away the summer days telling you stories of my life.”
Gramps, is that really you, you died when I was 12. I understood what was happenin, but now this are you dead or am I
“Always a quick one, fine eye for details, grasped information quickly, always the apple in my eye, seems like you picked up some tricks from this old horse”
What are you talking about, even in death you’re still senile, what the hell happened. All I can remember is chasing my last case down a back alley, OHHH I think I get it now, like every TV detective I got a slug in the chest and died.
The old man nodded and sighed, “Well at least we have something here, so what do you think is going to happen now”, a pale ring of smoke drifted into darkness.
Well there are two ways this can go down, I either pass into death, or some upper mucky muck decides to play games and lets me live.
As the last thoughts pass into darkness a faint rustle of clothing and a heavy weight across his chest, the weight was easy enough, it was a blanket, he was in a bed.
Where am I and why am I strapped down, is that rustle an enemy, or is it a “nurse”
His eyes flutter open, slowly, the light he prayed for burns his eyes as daylight pours into his open retinas. They dart around and take a survey of where he is at.
Walls a sterile shade of white, check, TV on an arm in the corner, check, nurse coming to check on me? Check,
“Mr. Thornwitz, Mr. Thornwitz, are you awake, if you are awake you are pretty good at faking it”
“Thornwitz” gave a small dry laugh, and in a raspy voice, “water please.”
The nurse hurries about getting a small glass of water and a straw and held it gingerly up to his lips, he hurriedly sucks down gulp after gulp of water until it all comes up in one big blast of gagging water.
“Thornwitz” falls back unto the sweet realm of sleep and all seems to be well.
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