The Waiting

“How much longer do we have to wait?”

“The Seer said the guy would be at this corner wearing a black sweatshirt just before eleven.  So we have about five minutes, okay?”

“Okay.”  The waiting seemed eternal.  “What are going to do with him?”

“Grab him.  Take him back to the hotel.  Don’t you remember anything?”

“No.  I mean, yeah, we grab him, but then what?”

“That’s for Mr. Stearn to decide.  We just deliver him.  Any other questions?”

“No.  I guess not.”  He sat quietly after that, not wanting to annoy the other man further.  The minutes passed slowly.  Finally, he saw the guy.  “That’s him, right?”

The other man followed to where he was pointing.  “Yeah, that’s him.”

“Good.  Let’s go get him.”  He started to open his door when the other stopped him.

“No.  We’re leaving.”

“What?!  Why?”

“What time is it?”

“Just after eleven.  Why?

“And what color sweatshirt is he wearing?”

“Red.  What is going on?”

“This is off.  The time.  The color.  Something has changed.  The Seer doesn’t make mistakes.  This is wrong.  We go back.”


“Yes, seriously.  This much discrepancy requires regrouping.  Maybe go talk to the Seer again.”

“We waited all this time . . .”

“Don’t care.  Let’s go.”

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