Golden Oldies

Having finished reading Ron’s note, Charlie put it on the coffee table.  Thumps on the front door signaled a visitor.

Charlie got up and walked to the door, expecting to greet his old friend, Ron.  Charlie looked through the small window on the wooden plank door.

Instead of Ron, Charlie glimpsed a squat, gray-haired man wearing a Navy colored jacket.  Wrinkles around his eyes and sagging jowls added to his years.   A scowl on his face did not bode a friendly visit.  He stood there, poised to knock again.

Sensing trouble, Charlie called out loud enough for Jimmy to hear, “I’ll be right there to get the front door.”  If Jimmy got the hint, he would be ready as backup should the situation get hairy.  Charlie opened the door.

The man barged in, leaving the door ajar.   He looked around.  “Are you Ron?”

“No, I’m Charlie Chief.

About me

This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)