Tick Tock

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Out of a cloudless sky on a windless November day came a sudden shadow that swooped across the bright aqua Corvette. Tommy Phan was standing beside the car, in pleasantly warm autumn sunshine, holding out his hand to accept the keys from Jim Shine, the salesman, when the fleeting shade touched him. He heard a brief thrumming like frantic wings. Glancing up, he expected to glimpse a sea gull, but not a single bird was in sight.

Unaccountably, the shadow had chilled him as though a cold wind had come with it, but the air was utterly still. He shivered, felt a blade of ice touch his palm, and jerked his hand back, even as he realized, too late, that it wasn’t ice but merely the keys to the Corvette. He looked down in time to see them hit the pavement.

He said, ‘Sorry,’ and started to bend over.

Jim Shine said, ‘No, no. I’ll get ‘em.’

Perplexed, frowning, Tommy raised his gaze to the sky again. Unblemished blue. Nothing in flight.

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