Bait and the fish.

His car rolled to a stop in front of me. He jumped out and strolled towards my direction. An engaging man with a hearty laugh, he laughed at everything. People would naturally gravitate to him; he spent with the abundant ease of someone who has always had money. There was a charm to his countenance that pulled you in; I imagined he was a lady killer.

I acted calm like I did this every day. Barely looking in my direction he handed me a bundle of notes in a wrapper. It was 10 large, I had never seen that kind of money before, I started to sweat lightly into my nightshirt. He was talking a lot, going over details, I was responding appropriately, I hoped. How was it possible to function on two totally divergent levels like this? Jeez, I was freaking the fuck out mentally but I was still holding what I think is a plausible conversation about the peculiarities of this transaction. I wanted to be left alone, to understand this moment, to wallow in the pleasure I felt from the tight bundle in my pocket. But I realized that any show of not having been here before would torpedo this, right here, right now. I could not let that happen, I have to continue to hold it together. He stopped talking briefly; looked me in the eye and asked if I was up to this? I reaffirmed that I was; and just like that he was gone. For a minute I stood there shaking, TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS, YOU HAVE TO BE FUCKING, KIDDING ME!

I burst through the door, wood chips from the shattered door flew in all directions, huddled the coffee table, that was in the middle of the room, my eyes instantly scanning the large windows to my left. As my head started its sweeping arc towards the French windows, I knew instinctively that I was not alone, I could feel and hear the swishing sound of the club, and then an explosion hit the back of my head, just behind my left ear. I fall straight through, into the rising darkness without another sound. I slowly became aware of the light, my throbbing head seemed to be expanding and contracting too rapidly for me to be able to get my bearings, I try to deduce what was going on around me. The light was burning a hole through my eye lids, I could hear his voice in the background, calmly giving orders to someone , I try to focus on the source but the light is too strong, I can’t see past a couple of feet or so. Strangely what I feel is not fear or remorse but regret, I knew I was over, my train was pulling into its final station, the very last stop, on what has frankly been a disastrous journey.