Vera and Nicholson were parked in an unmarked car on Wilcox with a clear view of the entrance to Sibley’s apartment building. They observed, without much interest, an old bag lady enter the building, then went back to the business at hand. Nicholson had opened the calendar section of the paper and was resting it on the steering wheel as he tried to read the movie pages by the dim light of the streetlamp. Vera kept his eyes peeled on the building as he took bites of his Hostess Twinkie.
Nicholson glanced down at what he was eating. “You shouldn’t be eating that crap.”
“I’m packing my own lunch now. I get to eat whatever I want.”
“It’s shit and you know it.”
“Who cares? It tastes good. Angie got a promotion at the bank and says she’s too busy. I asked my daughter to do it and she just laughed. Can you believe the lack of respect?”
They both spotted the old bag woman coming back out. A couple of inches of silk black back dress hung down below her coat. She hurried up the street towards Franklin.
“Wanna bet who that really is?” Nicholson started the car.
Vera smiled. “You think I just fell off the turnip truck?” Then added, as they slowly cruised by the building…“There goes Sibley!”
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish