Cuba part one

Welcome to Summer here on the Coast of Illinois. This season I am trying something new. Mondays will be a fiction post, inspired by the Sunday Photo Fiction bloghop, a group dedicated to 200 word fiction inspired by a photo. I may be pushing the 'boundaries' slightly. I am hoping to make each post story-like, but Big Picture, I am shooting for a serialized story based on characters from an old fiction piece that I have yet to finish but hope to one day. 

A little background on this - Egypt- was a story I started years ago through an on-line writing group. It is a romance/mystery/adventure sent in Cairo in the 1930's during the beginning of what would become WWII. Initially I had hoped for this to be a stand alone story but as I worked on it more and more I found it lent itself nicely to a series of stories founded on the main characters love of playing 'hide and seek'. But as adults, seeking a greater good. 

Sounds heavy but I assure you, it is not. It is the sort of story I want to read in the summer, heavy on romance but exciting and adventurous. Not in that bodice ripping harlequin manner but more of a Casablanca, The Mummy (Brendan Frasier version)way. 

To help maintain the 200 word limit, and avoid too much more explanation let me introduce the main characters.

Celia - the female lead, a photographer.

Grayson - her brother, the instigator of the game.

Miller - a special forces sort of agent, Celia's love interest.

Al'Rhoubi - Grayson's right hand man.

I hope you enjoy the series. 

And if fiction isn't your thing, check back towards the weekend when more of a 'sailing' theme will prevail.

And now, without further adieu...

Photo Credit: Susan Spaulding, from Sunday Photo Fiction

Cuba

part one

Every town has one, she thought as she stepped through the door into the cool pale darkness. Questionable cleanliness, so much graffiti carved into the beams it was a nod to the a higher power that they still held. She took a deep breath, but rather than clearing her head, the dense smells of stale beer and old seafood sent memory spinning.

From a shadowy table in the corner, Miller waved her over, bottle in hand. "Just as hot as Cairo, but much better beer." He slid an opened bottle across the scarred surface towards her. "Any word?"

She took a drink.

"None yet." She turned her chair, angled between the table and door. "We wait. Like always." The waiting was the worse, both tedious and exciting. Drug-like.

"Wouldn't it be easier to just tell us what crusade we're on?" he knew the answer before the question left his lips.

"No. It's not how Grayson works. Never has been. Never will be." She stretched, remembering. "You think those kids will be okay?" The faces of the brother and sister waving from the train as it sped on to Lisbon haunted her.

"as sure as..." Miller's reply trailed off as the light from the open door was eclipsed by broad shoulders of a broad man.

In the stranger's hand was a white envelope. Even from their place in the corner, the writing on its face familiar.

"Well, here we go." Celia stood. "Senor?"

Who is the mysterious stranger? What does the letter say? 

Come back next Monday for more.....Cuba....

For more posts in the SPF click here: http://www.inlinkz.com/new/view.php?id=786648


(Sunday Photo Fiction or SPF links can be found here: https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/ )