A man's hat

[Ludens]

Is this still to be continued?

I would be sorry to see this story go unfinished.

[Mouzafphaerre]

Is this still to be continued?

I would be sorry to see this story go unfinished.

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[Mouzafphaerre]

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[SwordsMaster]

Good news guys, I might be able to post the next chapter by the end of the week.

Thanks for the attention

[Mouzafphaerre]

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[SwordsMaster]

Ta,ta daaaaa!!

New chapter ready. Was away surfing for the weekend, so didn't post it as intended. Sorry, but when the surf is up, the surf is up....




Chapter 5

I put the hat on and left the place. The car was gone. My partner must have assumed - correctly- that I wouldn't drive. I wasn't really in the best shape to drive or operate heavy machinery anyway.

I kept walking towards home, ignoring the trams and the drunk english teenagers, and the stoned teenagers from all other nations. Drug tourism only got bigger with the Euro. Apparently our european friends were happy enough to let their youths go get stoned to another country as long as they kept trouble out of home. Which usually meant more work for us.

By 'us' I meant my partner and I.

I made my way across the canal in the darkness, and the crownds became thinner at the other side. I still hadn't noticed the two cars following me.
I was too worried about walking in a straight line as I crossed the road. After another few minutes of pacing the empty streets, I ended up in the park
just across from the Opera House.

I breathed in deeply. The alcohol was starting to disipate with the cool air and the exercise.

That moment was when the first car, big and dark, stopped besides me and two men got out. Big men. Dressed in dark clothing.
As they approached I knew they were not there with good purposes and tried to prepare myself for a fight. Before I could even think of how to do that one of them hit me in the stomach.
I bent down, winded, and then a punch exploded behind my left ear just as I struggled for air. The night exploded in pieces and I was unconscious.



When I recovered my senses I was in motion. It took me a minute to realise that I was in a car. More specifically my partner's car. And that there was a bloody baseball bat on the back seat. My partner's shirt was also bloody.
Sometimes I'm really happy that my partner has just about enough social skills to resolve his differences with a baseball bat. Maybe he should run for president. I'll ask him sometime.

- I followed you. - He said, before my drunk and beaten brain could come around to formulating the question. Psychic, I'm telling you.

I digested that.

- Why would anyone want to follow me and then beat me up? - I managed.

- Because you were wearing my hat. - He meant that I looked like him to a pair of contracted goons that only had a few details to work with and the hat was probably the most significative one.

- So...? - I didn't quite follow.

- I gave our friend Ismael false information. - He didn't even blink. That is why he was trying to justify himself in the cafe.

- And why would you do that? - I was getting angry. I mean, my partner's principles had just cost me a bump the size of a pigeon's egg...

- Because she didn't deserve it. - He said quietly after a bit of a pause. Suddenly all the anger was gone. I let air out.

Sometimes his gentlemanly outbursts have really bad timing. At least he could have told me.
Deep inside I knew he did the right thing, and that I should have thought of it myself.

- Now what? - I finally mustered. I touched my head. Pain.

He grinned in my direction.

- You have no choice but go with the flow now. -

- For your own sake I hope 'the flow' doesn't mean another beating.- Was he being funny? Nah. Was he?

- In words of Tyler Durden: "we are about to hit bottom".

I just shook my head.

[Mouzafphaerre]

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