Thursday, February 16, 2012

Sunday Scribbles...Rest

Gilded Foundations
A Paranormal story taking place in the 1920's

Tiffany's heels clicked unevenly on her steps. It had been a long day and a longer night. her feet hurt, she had been on them all night in shoes which were far from conducive to the activity. She was so tired. she pulled her long trench coat close, the wind was picking up. of course the cloths she wore were also far from being the kind of thing any smart person would ware out. Tony, I hate you.  she thought. Tony was her boss, and her half brother, and possibly her uncle... she didn't try to understand her connection to the Stiilne family she just knew it was complicated. the kind of complicated that ended in her mother's murder, not that anyone did anything about hat kind of thing, not with the Stiilnes were involved anyway.

Any way Tony was still punishing her for what she did. That meant she worked the floor 5 nights a week. running food and drinks for him and his friends while they watched the dancers and talked 'business.' every now and again she was forced to sit on someone's lap while they gambled. said she brought them luck. She was just glad that what ever Jaan, Tony's father, had said to him years ago still held. she might sit in their lap but they never took her to the back of the saloon. Maybe it was just because she was a Stiilness, maybe not in name but a Stiilness all the same. Still Tony Stiilness wouldn't let her get any job in town except working in his Saloon, unless she wanted to do what most the bastard children of Stiilnes family did, and she could never do that.

When she got to the door she started digging for her keys.  She unlocked the door and went inside. all she wanted right now was hot water to soak her feet in and then curl up for the few hours of precious sleep she might get before her day job started. A few short hours to rest and dream that this wasn't her life. she shut the door and locked it.

Suddenly the light came on. she spun around with a drawn gun. She recognized the man sitting in the white arm chair. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I should probably get used to that kind of greeting." he took out his cigarette case and lit up.

Tiffany cocked the gun. "What do you want Jude?" So much for a restful night.

For more stories see Sunday Scribbles

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