Rays of morning light jabbed his eyes. Someone opened the curtains. The brightness pierced the back of his eye-balls.
Synch hesitated pulling his hand from his eyes to find out exactly who the familiar voice belonged to.
“How are you feeling?” said David Finestra.
“Fantastic,” Synch breathed, carefully moving his legs.
“Sorry you got shot,” said David. “It wasn’t supposed to happen.”
Synch's eyes narrowed. He wished he’d stop hearing that phrase.
He waited for an explanation.
“Will planted a listening device under your kitchen bench. Our guys were listening to you out front in an unmarked van. When you said ‘David’ then heard the rap music they thought it was me and called to confirm it. I answered my phone just as they heard the shot. The mistaken identity slowed their response time by a few minutes. Sorry.”
“Yeah, well, I did insist on going home,” said Synch. His face wrinkled as he re-arranged his legs. “How’s David Buchanan?”
“Still breathing, with help,” said David.
All this because of a Last will and Testament thought Synch.
The door slowly opened.
Cindy peeped in.
God, she was beautiful.
By Diane L Wood
My Bio: http://write-intention.com/Diane_L_Wood.html
A Short Short Story: http://easywaytowrite.19.forumer.com/viewtopic.php?t=9
A Short Short Story: http://ancientearthashortstory.blogspot.com/
A Fun Page: http://easywaytowrite.19.forumer.com/viewtopic.php?t=47
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