Kirk’s cellphone rang. It was Margo. Why was she calling?
“Kirk,” her tone was funereal. It was a bone chilling sound.
“What’s wrong, Margo?” He snapped rather loudly.
All talk around him stopped. Every eye turned to him.
“Are you sitting down?”
“No. Should I be?”
“You’re gonna wanna sit down.”
“What’s wrong? Margo, you’re scaring me.”
“I just got here to open up like you said. I walked up to the door and—Kirk…. We’ve been robbed and the whole damn place is covered in fish guts.”
© 2019 Dellani Oakes