And here we are again with the mighty Wordzzle, originated as ever by Raven who weekly sets us a list of words and encourages us to write short works of fiction utilizing said words.
This week the words were:
10-word challenge: summer time blues, glasses, google, pregnant pause, integrated, suit and tie, parallel parking, shimmering, post card, slam dunk
5 word challenge: gradual, eagle's nest, martyrdom, pizza, pugilist
I went with the 10 word challenge and can now bring you part three of my ongoing story.
For those of you who missed the previous episodes the links are: part 1, part 2
Sleeper (part three)
It was dark in the apartment. Only the pale reflection of the computer screen cast any light on the figure hunched over the table. He leaned forward, still clad in his suit and tie. There was no time to change: time was running out and he was already behind schedule. Nevertheless he took a break from the machine to put the two glasses into the dishwasher and took a moment to wipe the fingerprints off both through force of habit.
From outside he could hear the sounds of someone parallel parking, the noise of the engine telling him that he would have to be quick. He saved the file, logged out and logged back in as the other user identity and flicked to google.
There was a pregnant pause as she reached the top of the stairs and then Sophie entered, whistling some tune breezily. It took him a moment to recognise it: Summer time blues. It must have been on the radio.
Sophie blinked, the change in lighting causing a shimmering effect on her vision. She reached for the light switch and then took a double-take at him.
‘Mark’ she said, taken aback, ‘I didn’t think you were in’
He smiled apologetically and rose to greet her, landing a kiss on her lips as easily as a basketball player landing a slam dunk, but with less finesse. He caught the smell of cheap aftershave on her collar and smiled to himself, wiping the smile away before she could see the darkness in his eyes, ‘How was your day?’ he asked
‘Pretty busy’ Sophie responded, dumping her bag on the sofa, ‘The Minister was in, but not in a good mood today: he’s expecting some big-wig to visit sometime soon, but no one seems to know when’ her voice trailed off as she disappeared into the bedroom and began discarding her work clothes, ‘Can we talk about it later?’ she called, ‘I really need a shower’
‘Sure’ he replied, trying to sound casual. He waited for the sound of the shower to begin and could be reasonably sure she was safely involved for a few minutes and then reached for her bag. It took him only a matter of seconds to find the small box that he had integrated into the contents a few weeks previously.
He logged back in to the computer under his previous user identity and connected the box to one of the ports. As the files began to blur and copy across the screen he leaned back thoughtfully and pulled the battered post card out of his pocket one more time.
He read both words: taking a long moment to digest them, to savour each one individually
He reached into another pocket for a cigarette lighter, burned the post card and sat back. Finally things were coming to an end.