Three taps on the table

Photo: Moritz Schmidt, Unsplash

He fiddles with the Scrabble tiles, plastic tapping the table top like falling teeth: she hasn’t stopped talking since she sat down, flowers of sweat blooming under her arms and between her legs, making her squirm with disgust as her body succumbs to the heat.

‘Being in this bloody country’s like living in a sauna,’ she says, ‘a sauna inside an oven inside a sodding furnace – now I remember Moscow, Moscow in the old days I mean, not Moscow now, now it’s all about being nice to each other in public, knowing we’re all still snooping …’

He taps on the table, three small knocks, hardly audible above the hum of the ceiling fan and she looks down at the tiles – QUIET. He nods to the door, to the man in the trilby and beige mac and her hand creeps below the table, pulls up her skirt, slides to the holster strapped to her thigh …

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Written for Sonya at Only 100 Words’ Three Line Tales. See the pic, get inspired, write a story in three lines …

That’s the theory and one I’ve stretched it every week I’ve completed the challenge – apologies. Saw the photo and for some reason thought of The Night Manager and joining Tom Hiddleston in a hotel in Cairo. Can’t imagine why … If you haven’t seen it, do – it’s marvellous.