Short Story

The Escort

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶

Written for The Unicorn Challenge where we are
asked to get creative in 250 words or less, using the
photo prompt as inspiration. This is my 250-word story.

© Ayr/Gray

Fiona was late for Mass. Seeing an unfamiliar man leaning against the wall outside Sully’s Bar, she quickened her pace. As she passed she heard him chuckle and say “What’s yer hurry, Irish?” She walked even faster, opening the side door to St. Brigid’s.

An hour later Fiona exited the church and noticed the same man from the bar standing at the corner. Had he been waiting for her all this time? Wary, she stepped backwards, teetering on the curb and losing her shoe in the process.

Suddenly the man was by her side. She was taken aback as he reached around her waist and stopped her fall.

“Name’s Harvey Rubin and yer one fine lookin’ dish. Ya need somebody like me to drive ya home, Irish. It can be dangerous for a good Catholic girl like yerself walkin’ alone in this neck o’ the woods.”

“Keep your thoughts …. and hands …. to yourself, buster!” Fiona snapped. “Besides, how do you know I’m a good Catholic girl?”

“Well, I ain’t no Albert Einstein but I seen ya practically racin’ to St. Brigid’s like yer panties was on fire and I’m guessin‘ ya ain’t no altar boy – not with them gorgeous gams.” Harvey replied in an unhurried way.

Glancing down, he smiled at her missing shoe; his tough “Bogie” persona became surprisingly charming. Fiona found it difficult to resist this rough-hewn stranger and she shocked herself by allowing him to escort her home.

She knew her parents would be livid.

NAR©2024
250 Words

The Unicorn Challenge-31/05/24

This is “Bogie & Bacall: Key Largo” by Bertie Higgins

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not for use by anyone without permission. NAR©2017-present.

47 thoughts on “The Escort”

  2. Pingback: The Apartment: The Continuing Story of Harvey and Fiona – The Elephant's Trunk

    1. This is a fascinating genre, isn’t it? And I do love its campy lingo, its own distinct language.

      I can’t think of anything that comes close these days and that’s a shame. This is a lost art.

      Your comments made me smile, Margaret. Thank you.

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

  7. damn! I am a total sucker for the pulp (fiction)

    To return the favor (your comment at the Doctrine included a most excellent (and insightful) quote, allow me…

    “It was a blonde. A blonde to make a bishop kick a hole in a stained-glass window.” (Raymond Chandler ‘Farewell, My Lovely’)

    I would swap a major functioning organ for the talent to write that kind of line.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    1. Double damn. Raymond Chandler had it going on big time.

      I’m digging my line from another story …. “and skirt so short I can practically see Niagara Falls!“

      Nothing out of LaLa Land today comes close to that noir thing (not to be confused with the long-suffering and stultifying Kay Corleone’s legendary line). We’re talking about a freaking lost art form.

      Screw functioning organs! It’s a damn fine goal, def something to shoot for.

      The gauntlet has been dropped. Go for it, dude.

      Like

      Reply

        1. I’m counting on that! It might be interesting to continue with Fiona and Harvey. It gets dicey with continuing stories, though. I have several in the works but I’m not giving them the love they deserve. May be another project for the summer. 😎

          Liked by 1 person

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          1. Summers warmth can be delightfully inspiring. (until we need the aircon to survive lol😬🤭)

            it’s really nice that you end your stories with room to continue and still it can be read complete if you chose not to.
            very much enjoyed….and you too, enjoy your project 💫

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