Safe Haven

Unintended consequences are always fascinating. Headline from nypost.com: “Smoking is up for the first time in decades, thanks partly to the FDA’s regressive war on vaping.” For the record, I’ve never smoked and I’ve always hated the stink and littering that comes with the filthy habit. Vaping seems a godsend.

Maybe this will end the nightmare. Headline from newsmax.com: “Pfizer Says COVID-19 Pill Near 90% Effective in Final Analysis.” And this from the accompanying article: “The Pfizer pills are taken with the older antiviral ritonavir every 12 hours for five days beginning shortly after onset of symptoms.”

Lo and behold, another story idea. I usually start from something pertinent to my life, in this case crossword puzzles. While the other four or so Twilight Zone-like pieces in the Curious Sicilian file end on a positive note, this one will go to the dark side. The file is now 178 pages, 38,000+ words. Here’s the first page or so on yesterday’s piece, Inn on the Outskirts:
The shelling of the Kraut 88’s was relentless, reducing most of the small French town to rubble. Sergeant Saunders came running down the main street. He paused, breathing fast, looking for a building that might provide a basement shelter safe enough for anything but a direct hit.
“Caje? Kirby? Littlejohn? Doc?” he called.
“Right with you, Sarge,” said Caje, the others beside him.
They spotted colorful light emanating from the edge of town and hurried toward it. About a hundred yards short of the two-story building, they stopped in their tracks.
“What the…?” said Kirby.
The place stood in the open, somehow unscathed. Neon blazed in the night: Heroes & Icons Café.
“I’ve never seen a bar like that,” said Littlejohn.
“Reminds me of New Orleans,” said Caje.
The shelling had suddenly stopped. They approached cautiously. Saunders opened the front door a crack and peered inside.
“Looks like a party’s goin’ on.”
Silence fell as the four men stepped inside and every eye trained on them. Many raised a glass in salute. The air was thick with smoke. Lieutenant Hanley, uniform immaculate, slick dark hair freshly cut, stepped forward.
“Welcome home,” he said.
“I was sure we were done for,” said Kirby.
“What is this place?” said Saunders, looking around.
“A safe haven.”
“Strange to have a costume party right in the middle of a war.”
The four followed Hanley to the bar and put their helmets on the counter. Their faces were caked with grime and their uniforms were filthy.

Another mild December day made operating the book shop fairly easy. My thanks to the two women who combined to buy seven books in Russian, and to the young man who purchased two and also Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck and a novel by John Grisham.

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