Jerry banged on the door, which clattered loosely in its frame. The sound reverberated up and down the deserted side street over which the converted warehouse loomed. He waited long enough for the echoes to fade, then banged again.
“What?” came the answer from a dirty, closed window one story up.
“Mother Dragonwort? Jerry stepped into the street to better see the window and the shadowy shape that moved behind it.
“Maybe. Who’s asking?” The voice was old and sly. Jerry shook his head. Why wasn’t this ever easy, he thought.
“You know who I am, Crone.” He unzipped his windbreaker and held it open. “Witness I carry no weapon and bear no ill..”
The window opened quickly — more quickly than one might have expected given how degraded it appeared. No flakes of old paint fluttered down in the morning breeze and it didn’t screech and shudder. Jerry wasn’t fooled. She showed herself, pixie-short red hair framing an oval face and stunning smile. She was innocence personified if not for the sly gleam in her storm-ocean eyes.
“Crone?” she said with a mostly innocent pout. “Must we be formal?”
He nodded. “We must.”
She sighed and began to duck back inside, but stopped and looked at Jerry with honest puzzlement. “How in the Here and Beyond did you find me? This glamour isn’t rookie stuff.”
Jerry cut his eyes toward the battered Vespa parked by the curb. “A scooter, Mother D? Come on. You might as well have parked a broom there.”
He caught a muttered “smartass” as she closed the window but he also noticed her genuine, eager smile.
I went a few words over the customary Friday Fiction limit of 250 words this week. Hopefully, you’ll forgive me as I spent the words to extend the scene a little longer so we could more clearly see the setting and people involved. Sometimes, you just need a little longer look, right?
Play along with the prompt here!
(Photo Credit: Ralphs_Photos on Pixabay)