Chance Encounter

"Night, Larry," called the shift manager. Larry was the last to leave. He pulled off his white cook's hat as he pulled on his long duster coat. Turning the collar up he dissolved into the crowd heading toward the subway all intent on getting home to a hot dinner.

Larry paused to light a cigarette, while scanning the crowd. He never smoked it, just used it as cover to lean against the wall and wait. He mimed bringing it to his lips as he spotted his mark. Tossing his cig aside, he fell into step behind a shuffling older man in patent leather shoes.

Stepping on his heel, he deftly caught the man's arm, "Excuse me! I'm so sorry! I should look where I am going." He pulled the man close as if to steady him while his free hand explored his jacket pocket. Instead of a wallet, he found a stick.

The older man's hand clamped hard around Larry's. His eyes bright with lightening, he growled. "You shouldn't have done that." Larry felt more than saw the subway melt away, leaving them alone in a purple fog.