Sunday Excerpt #amwriting #fiction


Welcome again to the Sunday Excerpt hour.  Today’s piece of literature picks up where we left off last week after Sabrina and her trusty friend, Mindy, have knocked out Jason Foxworth and shown what a bully and a coward Dean really is.

“Mindy,” Sabrina said as she glanced at her friend, “Go get the car and take Jason to the hideout. He can recover there without anyone finding him.”

“What about you, comrade?” Mindy looked at her friend, worry filling her sweet blue eyes.  She picked up the fox and slung him over her shoulder as if he were a sack of potatoes.

“Don’t worry about me, my friend. I’ve got to meet with someone soon then visit with father before we can do anything about this fox.” Worry filled Sabrina’s voice as she looked in the direction of the building the Claw and Fang called home. “Just keep him safe.”  She paused for a moment as thoughts went racing through her mind.  “I trust you with him.”

Not at all surprised by her friend’s wishes, Mindy nodded and headed back to where they had hidden the car in a nearby parking lot. Still not sure about her friend’s loyalty, Sabrina followed at a discreet distance to make sure the mink did do as she asked, then went back for the motorcycle.

Since she had to hide the fox’s bike, she took it to get to her next destination.  She was glad the motorcycle wasn’t very distinctive.  If anything it looked worse than it actually was.  it rode smoothly over the worn streets of the warehouse district and down secluded alleys to the old side of town.

Away from the newer, more modern, look of the city, the old city still bore the scars of the Great War.  Old buildings were in bad repair or burned out husks.  The ruins made dangerous places for children to play and the homeless to take shelter.  Even at this late hour, eyes could be felt staring out the glassless windows as the bike drove past.  Only the foolhardy would linger after dark in the old city.

Sabrina had no intention of staying long beyond the next light change.  Where she wanted to go was on the edge of the old city in an area of construction that was slowly edging its way closer to the scars of the past in the name of progress.  The place she was going had been there since before the war and had miraculously survived it, mostly, intact.

The B52 Diner was an old favorite of hers, if only because of the old time decor and the fact that part of the actual building was a rather large bomber lying tilted on its side so that one of the wings jutted out to cover the walkway and some of the parking for drive-up customers. Inside, the aerial theme was kept with the booth seats resembling wide pilot seats and the tables looking like they were views of the land from high above. Maps and medals adorned the walls, and there was even a memorial plaque for all the war heroes that died in past wars. Pictures of famous people were also posted near the memorial and other places on the walls.

What stood out most about the diner was the bar was a real set of propellers set end to end as the counter top. The stools and other seats were normal enough to go along with the black and white tile, and the smooth, almost metallic looking walls. Just above the counter, a chalkboard showed the items and prices.

The food wasn’t the best.  She wasn’t there for the food.  She was there to meet someone.  It was the only place she felt safe and unobserved.

Sabrina looked about the room as she walked in.   She stepped up to the bar and ordered herself a coffee and a burger. She knew she was going to regret eating the food in this place later, but it had been hours since she last had anything. Another casual look told her that her friend wasn’t there yet, so she picked an out of the way corner to eat and wait.  It wasn’t long before her food arrived along with a refill for her coffee.

The owner seemed to love the war-time theme so much, he had his wait staff wear either uniforms or suits like out of some old movie.  The waitresses and waiters wore the flight-suits while the bartenders, normally, wore the officer uniform.  They weren’t real aviator clothes, but they fit the theme of the diner.

Many times in the past she had wondered why the owner chose that theme.  No one complained that she knew of.  Certainly the veterans were thankful someone remembered them fondly and gave them their due.

Looking at the old war memorabilia, she ate quietly and mentally gave thanks to those who had fought and won the Great War.  Her attention then became attuned to the rain that was still falling steadily, keeping everything dreary and cold. It had stopped during her ride over and picked up just before she pulled under the wing.  Soon the rain will be snow, she thought to herself, then things will really be hard to keep up. Or… perhaps not.

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