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You order a Red Bull and the cook looks at you like you've landed in a UFO.
"Well, what do you have?" you ask.
"Everything floats. That's our specialty," the cook grins wide and shows a jagged set of once-pearly whites.
"Then rootbeer. A rootbeer float." It's been a long time since you've had one, but what the heck. This is going to be an adventure.
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"What is it?" you ask.
"Medicine," Regan pipes in. "It's the only type of spirits Hanover really likes. But I we'll see plenty others." She takes the flask from Hanover and takes a swig.
A train's whistle sounds.
"We'd better get going." Hanover tucks the flask inside his suitcoat.
"What do I owe you?" You ask the cook.
You drink down enough of the float fast enough to get brain freeze. "It's on the house," he grins and you swear you can see a knife's edge glint in his eye. But maybe it's just the brain freeze.
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"Ssshhh, little one," Regan croons. "You know they don't let dogs on the train. You have to just sit quiet until we get there."
The dog ducks her head back into the handbag.
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"What's so funny?" Hanover asks.
"Never mind," Regan winks at you. "You won't think it's funny. You never do."
"Whatever," Hanover rolls his eyes.
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...to be continued.
But while you're waiting, make sure to check out the other coffin hoppers. K.F. Kirwin has some haunting ghost stories and there are many more authors listed on the Coffin Hop home page.
In my experience strange black tendrils are never a good sign; great post.
ReplyDeleteI think I should have stayed back at the Black Cat... yikes!
ReplyDelete