Augustus was drinking heavily when I found him at Midnight Poutine. But after I shared my Belgian beer he only spent 10 minutes updating me, and then ran off into the night, still steady on his feet. Read part one of this series here; part two here; part three here; and part 4 here. – Caveat
She unlocked the door to the RV she time-shares with her ex-husband at 46 minutes past midnight. She was laughing at something a friend said. She was just going to grab a coat she could wear over her costume, a silver space-alien get-up that exposed slightly less skin than a reputable bikini.
Instead, I stepped out from the dark and grabbed her shoulder.
She screamed. I waited. She turned, reaching for mace she’d have kept in her pockets if she’d been wearing pants, and then realized how defenseless she was. She raised up her fist, then she saw my face.
She took a deep breath. “Jesus! You scared me half-to-death!” Put her fist down.
I didn’t move. “Then we’re half way there.”
“What … what are you talking about?”
“Why’d you do it, Krista? Why’d you set me up?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
I shook my head. “You’re even more beautiful when you’re lying. But I’m here for the ugly truth.” Read more »