Ficlets

Merope

“Go screw yourself cop, you ain’t gonna do nuthin’ in here” the man said, as he turned back to his beer.

Merope stared at the man – could he be wrong. The guy fit the descripton Tony had given him. Thin, wiry, a shock of gray hair, dark eyes.

Merope’s eyes swept the bar for anyone that might be paying unusual attention to him. The tall thin blonde behind the bar quickly glanced away. Did that mean anything? probably not.

Merope slewed around on the bar stool, his knee hitting the mans thigh. “What’s your name?” he said.

The man was clearly drunk. “Name’s Keith, you wanta buy me a beer?”

“Keith, what?”

“Kerphy” he said.

Merope wrote this down. “If you’re screwing with me Kerphy I’ll be back, and you don’t want that to happen.”

Merope angled across the bar thru the fog of smoke and the ear bursting music. The blonde barmaid was chatting it up with a well dressed business man.

“Miss, do you have a minute” he asked.

She looked him up and down. “Who’s asking?”

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