Thursday 15 October 2009

I took another sip of coffee. It was somewhat hotter than before, burning my tongue.
"Hmm?" Max asked.
"I said 'ouch'" I offered back, "Anyway, what's with that medallion?"
The medallion in question was a large gold affair hanging around Max's neck.
"Oh, this old thing? It's an ancient Red Indian thing, apparently. I picked it up last year, when I went on my trip."
As far as I could remember, Max had only gone to Wales, but I didn't bother to point this out. I also resisted the temptation to point out they were Native Americans as well, I'd had enough trouble explaining what he could and couldn't call midgets last Spring. I did ask this, however:
"Oh... Is it real? Or from a gift shop?"
"Nah. I dug it up, from an ancient Indian burial ground. There was a curse, apparently..."
I looked up at the darkening skies around us. I've got to stop going for coffee with Max. It always ends up with us being chased by vengeful spirits of some kind.

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