By
archiew
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2,710 words
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Description
This is one of the few short stories I have written; I hope to write, and post, more.
Excerpt
The bottle was open and there was a rocks glass, half full of ice, next
to it. Wes swore to himself that the briefcase was empty since this
morning when he'd arrived at the office and emptied it himself. There
was that unmistakable odor of Hai Karate, too, much stronger than the
mellow, inviting scent of the scotch whiskey.
The drive home that night was a strange one. Thoughts of Wes' Dad kept
coming through. Wes even lit his cigarette with a match instead of with
the electric lighter in the dash like he always did. Dad never used the
dash lighter. He used matches. Well, the briefcase was not going to get
to him. It was all in his head. Wes was happy he had left the old
briefcase at his office.
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