the door.
Worker went out, but Grigori stopped just before the door, and turned back to Iosif, who was now wiping the table they had just been sat around.
“Hey, Iosif!" He called out. “Tell me, what is your other name?”
Iosif stopped wiping, turned to look at Grigori and smiled.
“I thought you'd never ask me, Wanderer." Iosif gave a slight chuckle. “My other name is Uchitel.”
Grigori smiled. It all made sense to him now. “Thank you, Teacher. I'll see you tomorrow." Grigori opened the door and left the bar.
Outside, it had started to darken, not that it bothered Grigori now. Worker had already lit a cigarette, and was waiting for him in. Maybe it was still the vodka, maybe it was the realisation that he did have a gift, a knack for getting information to and from people, but he knew it with more certainty than ever before. I am a Wanderer, he thought, a trader of information for the good of everyone.
I know who I am now.
I am alive again.
About the Author:
Richard is male, mid-thirties and happily married and owns a lovely pet collie. He enjoys spending time writing, reading and eating home-cooked food. He's rather good at that too.
Alternatively, you can follow him on twitter: https://www.twitter.com/rich_cheese to hear any announcements about new works.
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