Harry took a long drag on the last cigarette in the pack. He wadded up the package and tossed it into the street; something he wouldn't normally have done. He pondered the insidious news he would soon be sharing with his client. She had trusted him and he had let her down. He conjured up the image of her disappointment. The horror of it all. He stood up for a moment, contemplating fleeing the scene before its enactment. But changed his mind. How was he going to tell her?… her prize porcupine was dead.
TO BE CONTINUED…
(don't count on it!)