The sound of the alarm clock reverberated in Nick’s mind.
He groaned as he reached over and tapped the snooze. His eyes slowly opened and he found himself looking at the numbers on the clock. “Four in the morning,” he said while letting out a yawn.
Why in heaven’s name did he have to get up this early? Then he remembered he had an early appointment and struggled to pull himself from his bed. He walked, stumbled mostly to the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror.
He splashed his face with water and looked at himself.
His silver-blue eyes cast a hard gaze at his patrician facial features. His sandy blonde hair was messed up from tossing and turning all night in his pitiful attempt at sleep. He yawned once more and got into the shower. The cold water attacked his skin like tiny icicles, but achieved the desired effect; he was wide awake now.
Minutes later he was in his kitchen sipping on his coffee while checking his appointment book on his laptop. He looked up at the clock and groaned. He grabbed his car keys, ready to start his day. Pushing the alarm button on his vehicle, he had almost reached the door when his cell phone rang. He frowned when he heard Mozart’s ‘Death Requiem,’ the ringtone he had for the office.
He groaned inwardly when he heard the familiar raspy voice from the other line. At times he wondered if it would be possible to receive all his instructions through text just to avoid listening to his boss. “No chance,” he thought, “It had taken a near miracle for the old man to upgrade to computers and cell phones.”
“Timothy Evans,” He read from his tablet, “getting the information now.”
“I am on my way,” Nick said before realizing the connection had been cut.
Sliding into his Ford Focus, he got comfortable in his seat and was on his way.
Turning from MacArthur Drive, he looked at the deserted city streets in the pre-dawn hours. At least, he mused, this street has sidewalks.
Madison Texas was a great many things, he thought, a bustling metropolis was not one of them.
Three sets of lights later he was at his destination. He got out and gazed at McDonald’s. He merely shook his head. “Why does it always seem to be at McDonald’s?”
He looked up at the gray sky and walked in.
Once inside, Nick scowled at the hospital like the look of the restaurant. The shades and bright white gave it a waiting room look.
Nick chuckled at the irony of a McDonald’s looking like a doctor’s waiting room. He glanced at the scoreboard looking menu above the front counter.
A disinterested teen looked made her way to the front register and gave Nick a half-smile. “Can I help you?”
Nick gave a lopsided smile and gave a quick glance at her name badge. “May I, Ladonna, May I.”
She frowned and said rudely, “You want something or Nah?”
Nick glanced at his cell phone and realized he did not have much time.
“You want regular or the McCafe?” Ladonna said staring at her fingernails.
“A dollar, eight,” Ladonna said, reaching for the Styrofoam cup. He handed her the money, and she placed the cup in front of him. He stared at her back as she turned to walk back to the back.
“Have a nice day.” He said sarcastically. She turned around, gave him a rough look and mouthed, “Whatever.”
He made his way over to get his coffee when he saw his appointment walk in. Tim Evans, looking to be in his later 40s, slightly balding and graying hair, he was dressed in a business suit, he looked the part of the arrogant lawyer.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.