The Grand Vizier and Lesser Beings

This is post 4 in Tim's serialized novel, A Typical Day in Miami. To start from the beginning, Click here

On the security counter’s far side, a woman watched Brian Newell’s approach. Red lipstick outlined her mouth. Rouge smeared both cheeks. Wearing a blue nylon jacket with City of Miami stitched in white script on the left and Sylvie on the right, she adjusted the quilt on her shoulders and pointed to a worn wooden cigar box. “Folder under the box. Keys, wallet, phones, anything metal, goes in the box.”

Brian put his portfolio on the counter, the cigar box on top, then dropped car’s fob, wallet, and iPhone into it. He shot his right wrist forward, exposing the Cartier watch his father gave him at graduation.

“What about this?”

“Is it real?” Sylvia squinted, shook her head. “No. You’re fine. Step through.”

READ MORE