Short Story Saturday

May we have the immense pleasure, to present to you… for our first ever, Short Story Saturday

Our Agent

The beginning

Thunder roared as she reluctantly rolled down the window of her sleek, black convertible. A man, smartly dressed, sneered at her. “Where’ve you hid it?” He growled.

The girl smiled, pleased to note that the man was thoroughly soaked from the rain. “I’ll give you a hint,” she purred in a heavy British accent. “It is on earth.”

“I already know that.” The man snarled. His knuckles turned an awful shade of white as he gripped the edge of the car in his anger. The girl tittered happily, tossing her waist-length hair over her shoulder. “If you don’t like it that way, I can make it change.” She fixed him with a hard stare. “You know perfectly well I have the capabilities.”

The man was silent. Rain poured like tears down his quite handsome face. He was young. Unlike the others of his kind. Finally, he looked up at her. “Look,” he said. “I don’t want to do this to you. Just hand it over, and the Company will leave you alone.” He looked into her eyes. His own were red as if he’d been crying. “You don’t want this…” He whispered. The girl turned away from him, staring out the rain-streaked windshield. “You’re right.” She whispered. “I don’t.” Her dark brown, wavy hair fell around her face, and the man could no longer see her expression. “But I must.”

“You mustn’t!” The man burst out.

The girl pushed the hair out of her face and turned once again to look at him. “I can’t let the Company lay their dirty hands on it… Their intentions are all evil, EVIL! You know this…” She began to cry. “I know this…”

The man reached inside and held her face in his hands, “Do it for me.” He pleaded.

The girl lashed out, suddenly pushing his hands away. “I am doing this for you!” She cried aloud, agonized. “Everything… all for you.” She turned to the driver, “Book it.” She ordered. The convertible lurched away from the curb, flinging dirty rain water up in its wake.

The man, now alone, stood desolate on the side of the road. He looked as if he belonged to another world in his smart, fancy-but-dripping, clothes. He turned his face to the sky, real tears now joining the water that already streaked his face. “The only thing left for me to do is keep trying.” He thought. And he turned, sliding into his Fiat and sped after them down the crowded, drizzling streets.

 

Part two will be posted on the second Saturday of this month. 

More content like this coming soon.

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