Flea Market

They first met by chance over a folding table full of ancient Geiger counters. Both reached for the same one and recoiled at the unexpected feel of warm skin. They started the careful dance of tense civility required in these situations.

“Oh, were you…?”

“Terribly sorry, I didn’t see.”

Each eyed the other, noting the signs of a fellow professional. Sturdy but cheap reusable bags, the sort that could be flipped inside out and easily hosed free of rust particles, paint chips, and other detritus. A packed lunch and discreet catheter tube so they needn’t leave the filled hall until they exhausted every table.

Ron put on a small smile, one that didn’t reach his dark grey eyes. He stayed silent, well aware that the first one to speak was usually the one who’d end up conceding.

Patty took her chance and picked it up. Ron’s eyes widened. He’d underestimated her boldness.

“It’s a nice piece, isn’t it?” she said, turning it over in her hand and running a finger over the manufacturer’s marks on the bottom.

“I guess.”

She flashed a mischievous smile at him as she flicked one of the switches and played with the dial. “Too bad it’s broken.”

Her opponent only shrugged, unwilling to concede anything. He wasn’t going to confirm or deny that he knew how to fix them, or even how to judge their condition.

His heart sped up a little as she brought it down towards the table again. She moved so slowly and with such an indecisive look on her face he was fairly sure she was mocking him. He wished he had the strength to walk away right then, before she put it down or not.

It made a gentle thump as it came to rest on the table. Patty wasn’t done yet, though. She kept her hand on it and made a sing-song, “Hmm,” before she fully let go.

“Oh well.”

She was on to the next table while Ron seethed. He performed his own inspection. Yes, it was broken but no doubt fixable. The price wasn’t great but it wasn’t outrageous either. It would have been a hard enough decision without the haunting thought that she’d seen something he missed.

With narrowed eyes he set it back down again, vowing that someday soon he’d have his revenge.

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This was inspired by Thursday's #freewrite prompt by @mariannewest: flea market.

Image by olafpictures.