THE HEART OF A SOUFFLE_The Old Gang_Goodbye Walter_Elizabeth Highbridge Escapes
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THE HEART OF A SOUFFLE
Two middle-aged Caucasian men, Dr. Andre Lachance and Dr. Francisco Vega (aka Francis), sit across from each other in a busy diner. Andre gnaws nervously on his fingernails while Francis methodically looks over a thick file folder. Periodically, Andre would glance apprehensively around the noisy diner as though he was a man on the run. Lack of sleep coupled with a steady overdose of caffeine have elevated Andre’s hyperactive mind into a state of high alert. “Well?” Andre suddenly blurts out after a long pause.Francis shuffles through the contents of the file. “Equations, blue prints, aerial p...
The Old Gang
Alex Mitchell sighed and looked around. All the old gang were here, just the way they had been that New Year’s Eve so many years ago. Older yes; many white haired, some bald or balding; not as slender and agile, but still the same group as had gathered here forty five years ago. He smiled contentedly, and sipped his drink. Nancy looked over and smiled, too, lifted her glass and glanced around at the people, then took a sip. Yes, she understood how he was feeling; all of them together again to celebrate yet another new year.As he looked around, he named them off in his mind. There were Jeff and...
Goodbye Walter
The car had been giving us trouble for weeks, but we could not get rid of it. It was our only means of transportation. The vibrant blue of its youth hwww.onedoor.ccad been riddled with rust holes, dents, and scratches over its fifteen years of ownership.It had been my parents’ car. A 1989 Dodge Omni that had seen more of the country than most people do in a lifetime. When I finally moved out after my third year of college, my parents gifted the car to me. It had always been a trusty ride and Walter, my affectionate name for him, always got me to where I needed to go.Today was different, however. The rattli...
Elizabeth Highbridge Escapes
As usual, Aimee’s most bothersome hangover manifestation was the sensation of a vice tightening across her forehead. Shaky and nauseous, she gritted her teeth, praying to the god of bad decisions to guide her to the gate so she could nap before her quick flight back to Cleveland. After passing through the metal detector at the security checkpoint, her backpack glided out of the x-ray scanner. She fumbled to pick it up before turning back to grab her beaten up sneakers from the next bin, except the next small round dish contained an elegant black leather Fendi card case lying on top of a ...