Skip to main content

500 Words VIII—Nervous Tension

I'm late with this week's assignment, but at least I've done it. This is the eighth installment of the fiction game in which Dive at Small Glass Planet (see sidebar) gives us a sentence from an existing book, and we write around it using no more than 500 words. The provided sentence is in italics.

Nervous Tension

John slipped down the hall toward the men’s room while I followed the hostess to the table. I sat down and began looking for some peace of mind and redemption on the menu. I let out an audible sigh of relief, scanned the room and waited for John to join me.  

I was reaching for my water glass when I heard a gruff voice that stood out from the other noises in the room. The tone and the language seemed incompatible with the surrounding finery, and the other dinner guests were noticing as well.

At the bar, a big man with a purple birthmark on his neck was methodically swilling Scotches through his rotted teeth, and talking to the police patrolman whom we had met the day before at Burnt Flat. The man, dirty and loud, was hunched over the bar with the officer standing next to him jotting down his statement.

I sank into my seat and quickly tried to hide behind the menu when the server arrived. “Good evening, Ma’am,” she said. “Are we expecting someone else this evening?”

“Yes, my husband will be here any minute,” I responded and looked around for John. Where was he, and why was he taking so long? I had crossed my right leg over my left, and my dangling foot seemed to bounce up and down with a mind of its own. I put both feet on the floor to steady myself and added, “He’s just gone to the men’s room. Would you mind bringing a wine list, please? And if you’ve got some bread,” I said, drumming my finger on the tabletop.

The server pointed out that I already had a wine list and was in fact looking at it. “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought I was looking at a dinner menu,” I tried to cover my nervousness and pretend as though I were reading through the list of wines. I couldn’t focus on the words and finally just blurted out, “Oh, I don’t know. Can you just bring us a bottle of Chianti, please?”

I kept a close eye on the officer at the bar and hoped he would not spot me at the table. I knew the statement I’d given yesterday about only witnessing the accident with the vagrant and not being involved was weak. I knew it was just a matter of time before it somehow caught up with me, and I would have to confess I had been the one who ran over the man and then drove away. I was just so afraid.

I looked around again for John as the officer walked toward my table. My heart was pounding inside my chest, and my throat was dry. Please, John. Please get here now. Don’t make me go through this alone, I whispered to no one.  The officer sat down at my table and said, “Excuse me, Mrs. Harrison, but I have just a few more questions to ask, if you don’t mind.”

 

 

 

Comments

dive said…
Yikes! That sounds all too real, Robyn! At least it sounds like Mrs. Harrison will be getting her just desserts (sorry, I can't resist puns).
Wonderful writing as always and you still got it in just before the deadline.
Katherine said…
Ah, what a tangled web we weave....

Thanks for pulling me into the action, Robyn! This piece gave me a nice visual.
MmeBenaut said…
Aha Robyn. Mrs Harrison has been up to no good.
As for the waiter and his "are WE expecting ..."; I had to chuckle at that one. I pictured a rather gay chap there.

Popular posts from this blog

Happy Birthday...

to me! Update: Since you have asked, I only got one actual packaged gift, a beautiful hand-made bracelet from a friend, but both girls were home for the weekend, and we had dinner at the lake and a relaxing weekend. Thanks to all of you for your lovely wishes!

My Sitemeter is All Bloated and Not Quite Itself

I'm tempted to let it sit on the couch with its feet curled up under a blanket, a hot cup of coffee in hand, a block of cherry almond bark Chocolove within reach, and An Affair to Remember spinning in the DVD player. I'm one of those obsessive bloggers, the kind who checks her sitemeter as often as possible throughout the day, the kind who gauges the quality of her writing by the number of readers who regularly stop by. I've become less interested in the overall number of hits and more interested in the number of repeat hits. The return visitors are the ones I long for. When my sitemeter reads forty at the end of the day, and the majority of those hits are webpals who have conversed, I'm happy. Forty may seem low to many of you, but I've only been at this since August. To me, forty is a jackpot. A few days ago, I sat down at my laptop and discovered a number somewhere in the eighties. Eighties! Yippee! Yeeha ! Hoo-rah ! I've been discovered by the webworld , o...

Ish People

Tell an Ish person to show up around 9 a.m., and you'll see them somewhere around 9 a.m. Tell them to show up at 9ish, and you'll see them anywhere from 9:05 to 9:20. You have given them license to dilly dally, and who wouldn't take advantage of that? The other night at the big shindig dinner party, one of the drummers said the rehearsal the next morning would begin at 9ish. "I am an ish person," he says. Immediately the clanker goes off in my head--oh, good, I thought. I can deliver my daughter a little late. No Ish person is early, so if you say 9ish, that does not mean give or take 5, 10, 15 minutes. It's exclusively a taking phrase. Take an extra 10 minutes to drink your cup of coffee. We won't mind. We're Ish people. Sunday's rehearsal started at 2:00. Because it was conducted by the same people who conducted the Saturday rehearsal, my understanding was 2-ISH. My daughter is worse than I am about taking liberties with Ish time frames, so she d...