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The Meeting


Stephen L. Poirier


Copyright 2012 by Stephen L. Poirier

Smashwords Edition

The two men sat in a room of highly polished oak wood paneling whose floor was covered in lush dark red carpet. They sat in thickly upholstered chairs covered in dark brown leather which creaked when they made the slightest move. One man was apprehensive. He did not know why he was in this room. He constantly fidgeted and looked at his watch as if he had important business elsewhere. But he couldn’t think of someplace else he should be at the moment other than this room. The other man was quiet and appeared to be thinking deeply. Across from their chairs was a polished oak desk behind which a highly polished woman sat, her golden hair piled high on her head, her pink polished nails tapping a bored beat on her desk as she flipped through a beauty magazine in which she could have been a model if she had so desired such a vocation. She was long and lean and wore a fashionable red silk dress, black nylons, and black heels. Her finger tapping made the nervous man more nervous and he fidgeted some more and looked at his watch again. And occasionally both men stole glances at a polished oak door that was next to the woman’s desk. It was the only door in the room. Neither man could remember coming through it.

After ten minutes of this the apprehensive man summoned the nerve to ask the woman a question. “Are we waiting for someone?” he asked in a slightly high pitched nervous tone. He was a large man in an even larger blue double breasted suit with a red tie and a white carnation. His forehead was beaded with perspiration and his thick glasses were slightly fogged. He appeared about forty but his thinning brown hair was already turning the silver of someone who was closer to seventy.

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