“Urg!”
Scarlett White tumbled out of the peaceful window nook she’d been reading in, book
flying. BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP, an
ear-shattering siren rent the still in her apartment in two. Scrambling to her
feet, her 6’3” frame nearly as tall as the ceiling, Scarlett spun in a circle,
desperately trying to find the source of the ongoing… Dammit! She sprinted to her kitchen, opening the door
to a billow of acrid smoke. Coughing and sputtering, she made her way to the
stove, hoping against hope there would be something to salvage. Or not.
Sighing, Scarlett looked down at the disintegrating remains of her rice. Looked
like it was takeout again, for the 354th day in a row. At least she hadn’t
burned water this time.
20
minutes later, Scarlett finally found a parking spot at the new Vietnamese-Mexican
fusion restaurant. It was opening night, and the entire town, it seemed, had
turned out to test the cook’s mettle. She was halfway through her bún bò tacos
when darkness fell over the land. Literally.
The
pitch black carved a sudden silence into the previously bustling restaurant.
And then one of the big guys who’d been having a little too much fun at the bar
roared, “That was my toe, you spineless cheapshot!” And all hell broke loose.
Sounds of china shattering and the splintering of chairs filled the air,
accompanied by wet splats as flung food made contact with bodies. Cursing under
her breath, Scarlett stood quickly. She’d asked to be seated in the back corner
booth because it gave her a wonderful vantage point for surreptitious
people-watching. She hadn’t expected to have to wade through a bar fight to get
to the door. Well. Now or never, she supposed. Clutching her empty plate over
her head as a modicum of measly protection, Scarlett burrowed her way through
the pulsing, riotous throng as best she could. She could already feel the
bruises forming on her pale skin.
She was
a foot away from the door before she realized there was a great bulk of a
person blocking her way out. Aghast, she stared open-mouthed at the moron, and
was about to ask what in the @#&! he was doing when he hysterically sobbed,
“My wife! Where’s my wife? Nobody’s getting out until I find my wife!”
Now,
Scarlett was normally a very sympathetic person. She really was. But she had
just trucked her way across an MMA fighting cage and she was more than the
worse for wear for it. Her patience had shredded to irreparable pieces three
near misses ago. The door to freedom was right
there. And he was trying to tell her she couldn’t take it.
There
was only one way out of this.
Scarlett pulled back her
fist and let one fly. Thwack. Ooh,
right in the eye! The man doubled over, clutching what would surely be a beaut
of a shiner tomorrow, and Scarlett calmly walked past him and into the parking
lot. Idly, she flexed her fingers. “That’s one heck of a way to relieve some
frustration!” she grinned to herself. And she hadn’t even had to pay for
dinner.
