Microfiction Draft: Encounter
Boston was on lock down because of a terrorist attack. It was starting to rain. I had just woken up, got too much sleep. It was 6pm. I got out of bed and got a beer. My head hurt. The muscles in my neck were tight. I went outside and walked to an old Puritan cemetery near my house. I stopped at a grave and a man's voice sounded behind me. "I study these grave stones," the man said. "You a professor?" I said. "Yes. At Harvard." The man nodded to the headstone. "That gentleman is said to have cursed Cambridge at his death. The explosions last night were 300 years after his death, to the day. An interesting sign. The Puritans believed in signs. Everything had significance. For example, meeting someone in a graveyard at twilight could be construed as meeting with the devil." "I'm not the devil" I said. "I wasn't talking about you."