Waiting for Ernest (Excerpt)

He told me to meet him at five-thirty.  It was the middle of rush hour and the crowd crushed me,

pushing and pulling.  When the train arrived I found myself inside, carried by the crowd. I held

on to my bag and took a few shallow breaths.  Just when I thought I would faint, the train came

to a stop and I got off.

It was five-thirty-five and he was not there.  My heart sank.  I blamed the crowd and the MTA

for being late.  Everything was lost.  Now what?  Where do I go from here?  I had to think fast.   

   Suddenly behind me a man asked, “You have the money?”

   “Yes,” I whispered before turning around.

   “Let’s see it," he demanded.

My hands shaking, I took out the money.  He sucked in his breath, and from his backpack took

out a package in a brown paper bag and handed it to me.  By now I regained my composure

enough to examine its content.  It was a first edition in excellent condition.  I gave him the

money, and left clutching a pristine, precious copy of The Sun Also Rises,  I was in heaven.

Margaret L.

Sept. 2019