
Here we are, the last week of September 2023. I can’t get over how quickly the seasons change. It’s officially fall, and I’m still waiting for summer. This week, our Tuesday Tales post features the word prompt, SWEET. I’m continuing with Listen to the Stones. Enjoy.

Thank goodness Fiona had messaged that a driver would meet her here and take her to the hotel. With two large bags, a carry-on, and her messenger bag, it would be difficult just to get through the airport let alone find a shuttle.
It had been cool on the plane, so wearing a sweatshirt had made sense, and she’d donned the I Love Pumpkin Spice shirt Lenore had given her as a going-away present. In Canada, come the first of September, there was pumpkin spice everywhere—coffee shops, bakeries, candle shops, and bars, got in on the scent of fall. Since she loved the sweet smell of cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, and ginger, it was a match made in heaven, and pumpkin spice martinis were yummy.
Following the other passengers, she made her way to Immigration. The lines were slow and crowded with people from different nationalities, their voices blending into a hum, making it hard to understand what anyone was saying.
The line in front of her crawled forward. Directly before her, a family of four, most likely from India given their attire, included a toddler who demanded to be put down and a father equally determined not to do so. Beside him, an exhausted woman held the hand of a boy who seemed reluctant to move when his mother did. Twice, she’d had to stop abruptly when he’d balked. Behind her, the heavily bearded man in an Australian bush hat had managed to keep his distance from her, despite being propelled by the crowd following him. She heaved a sigh of relief when the family moved forward only to gasp in pain when the stranger stepped on her heel.
“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I thought you were with them.”
Turning, she shook her head. “No. I’m not. It’s okay. I’m amazed it hasn’t happened before. This place is a bit of a zoo. No harm done.”
He stared at her, his eyes lighting up in surprise and recognition. “You. Here. How is it possible?” He reached for her but she stepped away.
“I’m sorry,” she stammered, intimidated by the stranger’s attempt to touch her. “I’m sure we’ve never met. You must be mistaking me for someone else.” She shrugged. “They say we all have a twin someplace.”
Before he could answer, the customs agent called, “Next.”
Marina escaped from his earnest gaze as quickly as she could and presented her passport.
That’s it. Stay safe, and don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.
Oh my stars, what was that about? Why does he recognize her? Can’t wait to find out. Great job describing that claustrophobic, crowded line. I detest being in those.
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I suppose when the excerpts aren’t linear, you miss information. He doesn’t recognize her; he recognizes her eyes. There the eyes he’s seen on his as yet unborn sons that the stones showed him earlier in the story.
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Very atmospheric. Great descriptions of the scene. I could see and feel it. And then, wow! You really pulled the rug out from under. Looking forward to finding out what their connection is. Well done!
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ooooh. here I was loving her shirt and the thought of pumpkin spice and the family in front of her and then boom! Here comes the stranger recognizing her part. Love it. Intrigued! Jillian
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Wait, who was that? Something tells me that he really does know who she is. Great job!
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