The Monkey returns from hot climates with many new tales to regale you with. First up – Dead Ahead, a cautionary tale on the risks of idleness and indifference to danger. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. Comments are always welcome.
Aaron let out a weary sigh as he gazed at the man across the street that had just tipped his hat to him. He reflected for a moment and came to the conclusion that it wasn’t so much being dead again that would bother him; it was the dying that he couldn’t abide.
He sipped his cappuccino and allowed himself another look as he put the cup down. He wasn’t there anymore. Just like always. So once again, time was short. It would be a matter of no more than a few days at best until their next encounter, and when it came he would be killed. Just like the time before and the time before that. The bitch of it was that there was nothing he could do to prevent it. Not one damn thing.
He pushed aside the thought that always cropped up in these circumstances. If only he could know who the man was perhaps…but no. There was no point. It was a fait accompli and that was that. If experience had taught him anything at all it was that.
On the plus side he hadn’t whiled away the hours in dive bars for many years now. For it was that activity that had led to the situation he had been living for…how long? He didn’t know. It had been disconcerting to come to in a different life, a different city after each time he was murdered but he had grown accustomed to it.
He took some money out his pocket and tossed it on the table and wandered outside. He looked up and down the block but for the life of him he couldn’t see that there was any difference which direction he walked. In his current incarnation he was a man of leisure. Independently wealthy, though how or why he no idea, and that made the impending end of this life that much sadder.
He stopped into his favourite bookstore on his way home but nothing interested him. Try as he might he couldn’t put the latest encounter with is tormentor out of his mind. He stopped at his front door and looked around before putting his key in the lock, but there was no one about.
He put on some music and wandered out to the balcony to take in the view. Settling into his favourite chair he closed his eyes and practiced his meditation breathing hoping he could be free of the anxiety that was quietly growing with each passing minute but it was not to be.
As it always did, his mind kept drifting to that long ago moment when his world had changed forever. He had been wandering the streets of Caracas looking for an interesting dive to investigate. He had flown in on a whim and was looking for adventure. He had gotten far more than he had bargained for.
A small neon sign had caught his eye over the unusual door of a whitewashed building that seemed out of place, flanked as it was by two very modern business establishments. He had decided it was reason enough to investigate.
Upon entering his eyes and nose were assaulted be the heavy smell of clove cigarettes that had lingered in the air for far too long. Making his way to the bar he sat down near the only other patron. The man seemed to be alone, everyone else congregating in groups at wooden benches, engaging in low conversation.
He ordered a whiskey with a beer back and was about to toss back the whiskey when an inquiry made its way to his ear.