Okay, she’d sat here long enough. No matter how awful she felt, staying away from her desk any longer was going to raise eyebrows, if not tempers.
She definitely felt less wobbly, but she bought another cup of tea, this one to go, for extra comfort. As she took her charge card back and started to slip it into her wallet, it caught her eye.
Although the colors were what she was used to seeing, it wasn’t the right design. Alerted now, she looked even more closely, and felt the world start to slip out from under her feet again — the design was almost right, but the name wasn’t her name at all.
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| Ed Ivanushkin, Flickr/Creative Commons |
This is a Six Sentence Stories installment, #3. The cue was “charge.”
Click here for the linkup to great Six Sentence Stories by other writers.
99 Monkeys 
Woo hoo. Even more questions in the installment tale. Who switched the card? When did it happen? Is she who she thinks she is or not? I'm enjoying the unfolding story.
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Ohhhhh PSYCH! (makes sense to me NOW, that she could even use it, because in England it would have a pin number to enter before it would take the charge – here y'all just seem to swipe and go!)
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The nightmare continues. My advice is never let the card out of your sight and this applies particularly to restaurants and the exercise of walking to the till is good for you.
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Woooooo….this is why some restaurants have a payment machine at your table!!!
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Woooooo….this is why some restaurants have a payment machine at your table!!!
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nice!*
*how nice? (glad you asked!) so much so that I stopped, went back to last week's Six and read the previous… v cool
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