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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Ashy" data-source="post: 1747998" data-attributes="member: 312">Charles nearly jumped when the phone rang - the sound had a jarring quality that was quite unsettling.  '...not getting enough sleep, I would guess...', Charles thought to himself as he reached for the receiver.He picked it up just as it rang the third time and placed it to his ear."Oh, hello, Miriam - very good of you to call, and quite timely as well; I was about to lock up for the night.""You don't say..." Charles' eyes widened a bit as a squeaky voice squawked on the phone near his ear."Surely, you don't mean...", he remarked."My lord...my sweet lord."Charles did not speak for a long time - he merely stood there, mouth agape and eyes wide.  He had the distinct feeling that he had been thrust into the middle of some macabre impressionist painting; he felt all twisted, blurry and indistinct all at the same time.  Finally, the squawk on the receiver seemed to pause, squawk again and then pause once more.  Charles realized that Miriam was asking him a question."What was that again?  Sorry, just...yes, yes, Miriam, I will most certainly be there.  Thank you, Miriam, yes, see you soon.  Be careful, Miriam, for God's sake, please be careful!"  Charles was not sure if Miriam had even heard his last comments before hanging up and he looked at the dead receiver like it was some alien device that he had never held before in his life.  He stood for a moment, as if thinking; hung up the phone lightly and then burst into movement.Rushing back to his meager office, Charles grabbed several of his older and more valuable books, a few of his odds and ends he had collected in his few travels and tossed them all into an antique Civil War medical officer's bag.  Leaving the shop, he quickly made his way home, grabbed his passport, the money from his lockbox (hidden deep in the icebox) and a few other personal effects, stuffed them into his bag as well.  He left his home and headed straight for St. Francis'.</blockquote>

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