ORIGINAL FICTION: "The Truth about Lions and Lambs" (Part 2)

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Please Note: This is part 2 of the story, and it's rather short. Part 1 of the story is online here http://www.republibot.com/content/original-fiction-truth-about-lions-and... Part 3 will be online next sunday, and is considerably longer than either of these sections

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They heard some noises behind them. The plane pulled away from the terminal, the enclosed gangway folded back against the building.
“Huh,” she said.
“I feel…I feel like watching that plane leave should mean something to me, but I can’t think what,” he said.
“Huh,” she said. He turned to look at her. The terminal was mostly devoid of people, a few passengers were wandering around aimlessly, and some ratty-looking toughs were kicking the crap out of someone curled up on the ground. Neither he nor she thought to do anything about that.
“This is going to sound stupid, but I think…I can’t seem to remember who I am or what I’m doing here. I can’t even seem to remember my name.”
“Are you feeling allright?” she asked.
“Yeah, I feel fine, just…uhm…blank.”
“Check your wallet,” his forgotten wife told him. He did. He read his name off the driver’s license out loud, but then one of the toughs noticed him, and ran by, snatching it out of his hand and pushing him over in the process, then tore off down another hallway.

“Are you ok?” she said as she helped him up.
“Yeah. Damn! He couldn’t have waited ten seconds to rob me? I didn’t even get a chance to read my own ID”
“Maybe you’ve had a stroke?” she said, “I’ve heard that stroke victims can have memory loss.”
“Oh, God, you’re right!” he said. The blood left his face in panic, and his knees went weak. He sat down on the sticky, disgusting ground.
“We should find you a doctor,” she said, “They must have one around here somewhere.” She helped him up again. They walked toward what looked like the main concourse out of the terminal.
“Thank you,” he said, meekly, “What’s your name?”
“It’s….” she trailed off, presently came to a halt, “Huh.” she said. “Where are we going?”
“Uhm…” his stomach growled, “Food, I think. We were going to go get something to eat.”
“Together?”
“Evidently.”
“I don’t know how I feel about that, going off with a strange man. I don’t even know your name.”
“You’re married,” he said, noticing the ring he’d bought for her but couldn’t remember or recognize.
“Yes?” she said looking at the same ring as though it was for the first time.
“We could have one of those strangers-who-go-bump-in-the-night kind of trysts,” he said, giving her a rakish smile.
“No, that doesn’t seem right,” she said, “I’m flattered, of course, but, no. I love my husband” she said with the robotic reflex of an attractive married woman who gets hit on a lot.
“Well, nice meeting you,” he said.
“Likewise, “ she said, and then she said his name, dredged out of some rapidly-eroding associative memory. He didn’t recognize it, of course, and didn’t remember it a moment later. Neither did she.

He turned and went down the hall, she stayed in the terminal. They never saw, nor remembered each other ever again.

To be continued...
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part 3 of the story is online here http://www.republibot.com/content/original-fiction-truth-about-lions-and... Part 1 of the story is online here http://www.republibot.com/content/original-fiction-truth-about-lions-and...

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