Michael's Texas Embrace

            She grabbed the lumberjack’s arms and dragged him into the dark parlor.  She felt curiously like a murderer; the heist had gone wrong and she’d had to kill her partner.  With a gasp, she left him in the middle of the room.  He looked out of place on the floor, and Callista had a strange feeling of guilt.  Here she had only been in her uncle’s house for a few days, and already she had two prisoners.

           She fled the room and wedged a chair under the door, not entirely certain that trick actually worked.  She retrieved the pistol and her phone from the living room, called Lyle, and sat down in the kitchen to wait.

            The lumberjack knocked on the inside of the parlor door in what Callista thought was a metered, polite manner.  “Miss,” he called from within in a personable tone.  “Would you let me out?”

            Callista did not respond.  She did not think it prudent to communicate with murderers or rapists or whatever the lumberjack was.

            He said, “I think there has been a misunderstanding.”

            He said, “I mean you no harm.”

            He said, “You’re totally overreacting here.”

# posted by Michael : 9:37 PM