New old stories – The Case of the Missing Bible – Chapter 3

A small figure steals silently down the alley behind the shops on the main street of the neighborhood, pausing occasionally, to lift the lid of a trash can. With each look inside a can, the face contorts at the smell that rises up, while the eyes looked, mostly in vain, for signs of something edible. Hunger can be a strong motivator.

The figure continues down to the end of the alley…quickly…quietly.

Finally reaching the street, looking left, right, at doorways, at windows, all around not only to view the traffic, but also, for reassurance that no one is watching before crossing the street.

Reaching the sidewalk on the other side, the figure adopts a casual stroll for several blocks  and reaches highway 109. Hiway 109 is one of those old roads that hit their heyday in the 50’s with restaurants in the form of teepees, new fangled motor hotels lit up with neon and gas stations that looked like a cowboy’s boots and hat.  All that’s left now is brightly lit gas stations, convenience stores and cheap motels. Among them is the decayed Crescent City Inn. Like many of the buildings along this strip of old highway; it had, once upon a time, been far more glorious than it now was.

Still looking around to see if anyone is watching, the small figure approaches room 116, enters quickly and then silently closes the door.

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