Our starving, although still intrepid reporter was visiting Chinatown last evening in search of dumplings. The establishment she entered was what she had been told was an after hours dining club. Seeing only a few scantily clad dancers, a few men sitting at the bar drinking and no food in sight, she decided never to believe anything Dear Henry told her again, and turned to leave.
That was when, to her surprise,she spied a familiar looking character sitting at the back table.
Knowing she had but a moment to react, she pulled out her cellphone… only to discover it didn’t have camera built in.
Wait a minute, she thought. This is not my iPhone.
Undaunted, she reached for the disposable camera that had been collecting dust bunnies at the bottom of her handbag since 1987 and snapped a couple of frames.
The built-in flash failed, but still her quarry noticed. He stood, bowed gracefully, then eluded her by vanishing in the darkness of the alley behind the less-than reputable Demon’s Knight Club.
All that was left at his table was an empty cognac snifter, a smouldering heap of cuban cigar ash, a bit of knotted string and a well thumbed copy of Menage-a-20 with a pressed carnation tucked in at the beginning of Plain Donuts by Diane Condon-Boutier.
Unfortunately, when we developed the film, the first print was a snapshot of our reporters thumb.
… but the second looks suspiciously like the mysterious, elusive, and supposedly dead C.J.
Meanwhile, the hunt for the equally notorious Rico Suave continues.
Disclaimer: This is part of an ongoing fictional story and in no way represents real events.
Written in honor of the members of the On Fiction Writing group. Thank you to Rita, Renee, Carlos, Wendy, Paul, Joe, and Henry for their cooperation.