Not On My Watch

Mira had followed the woman for days and at last her patience was paying off. As they entered the dark and dingy lane, the woman turned around and held out a old worn out watch. The night was so silent that Mira could hear the woman’s bones cracking as her palm unfolded in Mira’s direction.

After hesitating for a second, Mira took the watch. A strong force of wind pulled her away from the woman but her weak looking bones proved stronger and in the blink of an eye they were on the other side of the wall.

Mira opened her eyes to the sound of house music which was playing at a distance. “The man you seek goes by the name of Razan Ghali” whispered the woman, her voice that of a rattle snake. Before Mira could thank her, the woman blended among the rest of the crowd all wearing hooded cloaks that reflected any light it met.

Walking into the closest bar, Mira asked the bartender, “do you know where I can find Razan Ghali?” At which the bartender snapped his fingers and silence engulfed them all.

“Well well well the mouse comes looking for the lion,” spoke Razan making Mira turn around in her seat. He hadn’t aged at all. Razan looked same as he did fifteen years ago, the first time she’d met him.

“To what do I owe this pleasure, your highness?” he asks bowing down in front of her.