The Bureau of Dreams to be Continued by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview
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The Bureau of Dreams to be Continued
Page 120
Gilda
Gilda’s Dream: A Toast with the Devil
Gilda had always said dreams were just memories from alternate timelines. So when she found herself stepping out of a smoky cab into the rain slick streets of 1920s Chicago, heels clicking like gunshots on the pavement, she didn’t question the logic, only the wardrobe. Her dress was velvet, her gloves were silk, and her purse held a single playing card: the Queen of Spades.
The city pulsed with jazz and menace. Neon signs flickered like Morse code warnings. She followed the scent of bourbon and betrayal to the Lexington Hotel, where the concierge didn’t blink at her arrival, only nodded toward the bar.
Inside, the air was thick with cigar smoke and whispered deals. And there he was; Alphonse Gabriel Capone, seated like a monarch in exile, his fedora tilted just so, his smile all teeth and calculation.
“You’re late,” he said, as if they’d met before.
“I had to cross a few decades,” Gilda replied, sliding into the booth.