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Black CoffeeLoading...
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Laura D’AlfonsoLoading...
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He slowly placed her baseball cap on the stone, and with a heavy feeling of regret weighing him down and a tear falling down his cheek, he disappeared into the fog.
Her hand fell from the gash, blood dripping down her face and onto the pavement. She limped into an ally, panting, and as she reloaded, she wondered how it got so out of hand. She always worked alone, but of course, the only time she helps out a friend, he omits some details, thus putting her life on the line. She knew that when this was over, she had to go dark. She would leave this life so no one would be able to track her. Or so she thought…
So far, it had been years that she had been under the radar and had not been found. Though one evening, while entering her apartment, which the location will remain undisclosed, she put her hand out and caught the penny she had placed atop the door before leaving. Her apartment felt alarmingly cold. She walked into the kitchen to find that the window was open, locks broken. Carefully peering outside, she closed it. With a sigh, she turned around and noticed a piece of paper on the counter. After picking it up, a look of apprehension settled on her face, and she proceeded to rummage through her possessions. She grabbed all her passports with the hidden cash and left the country.
With a baseball cap over her head, she would meet her contact, who would help provide her with anything she needed. The meeting would take place at an unfamiliar cafe. Instinctively, she looked around for anything suspicious, but nothing was out of the ordinary. Waiting at a table with a cup of coffee, someone bumped into her, said “Sorry.” and walked away. Placing her hand on her jacket pocket, she felt everything she needed was there. Thinking of her next move, she saw everyone in the room giving her odd looks. Her judgment told her she should make herself scarce. She drank the rest of her coffee, but as she continued, an engraved message revealed itself at the end of the mug. When she finished the last bit, the message was clear, and she read: “you have been poisoned.”
Once a year, her tomb is visited by only one person, a man with remorse and who lives with the guilt of withholding information from her. Little does he know, the grave is empty.
Her hand fell from the gash, blood dripping down her face and onto the pavement. She limped into an ally, panting, and as she reloaded, she wondered how it got so out of hand. She always worked alone, but of course, the only time she helps out a friend, he omits some details, thus putting her life on the line. She knew that when this was over, she had to go dark. She would leave this life so no one would be able to track her. Or so she thought…
So far, it had been years that she had been under the radar and had not been found. Though one evening, while entering her apartment, which the location will remain undisclosed, she put her hand out and caught the penny she had placed atop the door before leaving. Her apartment felt alarmingly cold. She walked into the kitchen to find that the window was open, locks broken. Carefully peering outside, she closed it. With a sigh, she turned around and noticed a piece of paper on the counter. After picking it up, a look of apprehension settled on her face, and she proceeded to rummage through her possessions. She grabbed all her passports with the hidden cash and left the country.
With a baseball cap over her head, she would meet her contact, who would help provide her with anything she needed. The meeting would take place at an unfamiliar cafe. Instinctively, she looked around for anything suspicious, but nothing was out of the ordinary. Waiting at a table with a cup of coffee, someone bumped into her, said “Sorry.” and walked away. Placing her hand on her jacket pocket, she felt everything she needed was there. Thinking of her next move, she saw everyone in the room giving her odd looks. Her judgment told her she should make herself scarce. She drank the rest of her coffee, but as she continued, an engraved message revealed itself at the end of the mug. When she finished the last bit, the message was clear, and she read: “you have been poisoned.”
Once a year, her tomb is visited by only one person, a man with remorse and who lives with the guilt of withholding information from her. Little does he know, the grave is empty.
