One.
If it wasn’t so freaking cold I would have had a cappuccino to go, but the frost still rimed the pavement, and my hands were freezing. I grabbed a small table and the waitress brought me an extra-large. She also brought me a slice of coffee walnut cake and a neatly folded note. I raised my eyebrows and she pointed to a corner booth where a very thin man sat staring fixedly at me. I looked down at the note, then opened it.
My dear Katarina, I read. My name isn’t Katarina, and I don’t read other people’s mail so I handed the paper and the plate back to the waitress.
“Whoever he’s after, it isn’t me.”
She shrugged and took the stuff away.
Me? I sipped my coffee, opened my book, and forgot all about strange men and slices of cake.
Two.
If it wasn’t so freaking cold I would have had a cappuccino to go, but the frost still rimed the pavement, and my hands were freezing. I grabbed a small table and the waitress brought me an extra-large. She also brought me a slice of coffee walnut cake and a neatly folded note. I raised my eyebrows and she pointed to a corner booth where a very thin man sat staring fixedly at me. I looked down at the note, then opened it.
My dear Katarina, I read. My name isn’t Katarina, but I was fascinated in spite of myself. I turned to face the man and he smiled coldly. I tore a page from my notebook and wrote three words before passing the folded sheet to an obviously amused waitress. She passed him the note and he glanced at it before getting up and coming over to where I sat. He looked down at me.
“Then why do you wear Katerina’s face?”
I shrugged. Then screamed as the acid he threw hit me.
I don’t drink cappuccino any more…
Working Title Blogspot 
Leave a comment