The two dark set eyes dilate quickly. The body wrapped in cotton cloth settles back into it’s half circular standing bed. The head is the only part moving. The straight jacket holds her together.
“From the mountains. They come in a tan truck and a white Mercedes. There are eight total. The mountains face west. Seven, there are seven bombs. They will be in the streets of London. Tuesday, 230pm, every half hour until they are all gone. The Tube. Clapham High, Oxford Circle, Whitechapel, Hackney Downs…. They will kill you all!” Figurine hisses. She blinks twice. Her eyes close.
The black suit stares at Figurine. “She done? Is there more?”
The white coat looks over, “She’s out. Four hours at least. She’s 90 percent accurate. Highest psychic rating ever.”
They turn away. The row of bodies surround both sides. Five bodies mark the end of aisle. The triangular knob closes the file of psychics.
“So what do you use on them. To get them to talk.” The black suit inquires.
“Water. They believe they have no choice. It’s called being locally blind. They all do it.” The white coat answers.
“Rainer, it’s happening Tuesday in London.” Black suit talks into phone.
“This Tuesday?” Comes the answer.
“She said Tuesday. ”
For the beginning. ..
I see her there before me. She’s average build with soft brown hair. Seems distracted, unsure of her presence. Her red top the baby doll sleeves make her stand out in the crowd. I didn’t know when I arrived but now I know this is why I came here. The park setting is perfect hunting grounds. The wide open bend in the river sets up a circle of lush grass. Trees form a smile on the parking lot side. Kids plays areas make out eyes on the face, merry -go-round and swing set sit empty today.
My park bench sits on far left. It gives instant view of the approaching people. All shapes and sizes blend. Colored shirts and pants create the effect of a rainbow cast hopelessly in a blender. But one color jumps out of the crowd, red.
He remembers her. As a college kid she was unattainable. She was a glowing specimen of female form. Her curves perfectly placed. Her soft voice and mannerisms created an inviting situation. He knew how she did it. In the group of students, he knew she had favorites. He knew if he ever got her alone, without the teacher position she had over him…. It was destined to work. Those eyes that talked to him about what they both felt. Words she had to use to keep their secret safe. But today, there was no one but them. The people around them knew nothing about their story. They never would. He had to live in the shadows for now. His left eye narrows as he sees her. In that eye, he sees their future together.
She turns to the water. Never letting on to the future that never was destined to exist.