The Archfornicator of Canterbury

36 Suite Transvestitia

The sun's first rays peeked through the cracked window, bathing the room in dawn's early light. The first thing that Jack Back saw when he opened his eyes was the wallpaper, which was beyond garish. The blue and orange paisley pattern reminded him of the bouts of migraine he used to have as a child.

At first, he had no idea where he was or what had happened. Then he remembered. Dogs running after him. Jumping off the bridge. The river. His clothes were folded neatly on a chair nearby. Someone had washed them. His Glock sat on top of the pile of clothes. The contents of his pockets were carefully laid out on the table. Everything was there – except the rock.

Being the CIA-trained killing machine that he was, Jack did not panic. His every instinct told him to, though. Did he drop it while running, or did it end up on the bottom of Rio Puta? He had no idea.

In the same instant, the door opened. A rugged man wearing greasy overalls came in carrying a tray.

"Morning. Here's some breakfast. Figured you could use a bit of nosh."

"Where am I."

"In Transvestitia. Roughly three miles downstream from Hospodar."

"How did I get here."

"I was out on the river fishing. You hit my boat. Biggest catch I've ever had."

"Thanks."

"Anytime. A little bird told me you had a disagreement at the border."

"Something like that."

"They call me Og."

"Jack."

"I'll leave you to your brekky then Jack. I'll be downstairs if you need anything."

"Thanks Og. I owe you."

Og shrugged his shoulders and left. Jack couldn't remember when he'd last smelled anything as wonderful as the coffee and buttered toast Og had brought. Then he remembered the perfume Suzy had worn before they got in the shower together. It wasn't easy for him to shake the mental image and concentrate on the breakfast. In fact, it was quite hard.

The Archfornicator of Canterbury by Olli-Pekka Rinta-Koski
is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.5 Australia License.