Pilkington’s Gamble Scene 2

Pilkington took a sip of his coffee and bit into his croissant. He mulled over what had happened in the short time since he had stepped out into Whitehall.  
 

It was certainly like no other Monday morning he had experienced – ever.  He was wondering if he had slipped into some parallel reality which bore remarkable similarities his experience of the weekend’s events.  

He was jolted out of this dream-like state by the vibration of his phone.  His phone stopped vibrating and he looked at the Message. 

He took the cue, picked-up his frappe, thanked the barrista and made his way down Victoria Street.