March 29, 2021 3:00 pm

*
…The door swings open.
I am greeted by a full-on smile.
An air stewardess smile.
My greet is even dressed as an air stewardess,
without the hat, although her hair-style would accommodate such a hat.
As she ushers me into an expansive wood-panelled hallway,
I am enveloped in her perfume.
My head starts to spin…
I think of my wife, Maddy, of home cooking and herbs.
My hostess raises a quizzical, well-shaped, eyebrow,
and shows me into a waiting room to the right of the entrance door.
I am relieved when she has gone,
but suspect that she will soon be back.
I sit down in the wood-panelled waiting room
on a red leather, brass-studded sofa.
The room’s tall windows are screened against traffic noise
from the busy street outside.
Directly opposite me, and the only other thing of note in the room,
is a free-standing work of modern art.
It is large and ‘mechanical’ and appears to have been constructed
from found objects.
I rise to stand and walk over to the installation, mentally cataloguing,
its component parts.
Its centrepiece is in part comprised of a clock face.
The central ‘axle’ of the clock hands doubles as a key-hole camera…
*
Posted by Stuart France
Categories: Fiction, Trickster
Tags: mystery, Psychology, story
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