As he neared the door, he noticed that both the match-stick and the bottle cap, that he had strategically placed to be dislodged if anyone so much as tried the handle, had been repositioned from where he had left them three hours earlier. He new this could mean only one thing, they had found him. There was no choice, no way of going back now. Nothing to be done. He turned around, ran to the car and sped away with all the speed he dared without arousing too much suspicion.
He could hardly believe it, but there could be no mistake, no one else would have even noticed the makeshift security measures, let alone fixed them back the way they had been… Almost the way they had been. A crucial error that had surely saved his life. Seven years it had been, seven years of relative peace. He had almost started to think that he was safe, but no. They were here, they were going through his possessions at this very moment no doubt, sifting through them for the three things they desired even more than to see him head.
His only consolation was that the items were safe from them, as was he. For the moment at least. He would never break under torture, but neither did he have any place to hide from them. Nowhere was safe from their eyes, from their spies. It would never end, and he knew it. He had to make a stand, here and now. It was the only hope he had left, take his secrets as well as however many of them that he could to the grave with him. But how could he hope to oppose them? How could anyone? No, there was only one thing to be done.
So he drove to the suspension bridge over the river, cleaned out the interior of his car into a bag, and tossed it as well as himself over the rail into the churning white rapids below. He smiled as the torrents enveloped him, and closed his secrets into their icy embrace.
Meanwhile the squirrel returned from its scavenging foray and brushed the debris at the foot of the door back into their original positions with its tail.
* * *
It only got truly interesting the next morning when the police fished out the grinning corpse of a man clutching at a bag of refuse.
1213144240 24:162 11.06.2008 1
Part the Second: Paranoia
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this one is the best! for me at least, that’s why i decided to comment here about the three, ok the first one is cool, it gives a lot of the mental stuff of “the special person” but it gives no physical appereance so for me as a reader i can’t imagine how he is, however it’s not that important since it’s a short chapter based only on mental stuff so my comment is completely useless hahaha…
… take care ^^ and keep writing! ^^
the second, is the best, it really makes you feel paranoid! hahahaha i mean i did think that someone was following him and all that stuff, well done, your writing really gives the reader the right feeling, in an intense way, and oh when i read of that squirrel (hahahaha xD LOL, really fun) i really had a heart attack! like “OMG!!!”.
And the third one really creates in the reader a curious feeling, coz you know the whole thing is focused on the knives and the key and all that, but referring to a woman, an unknown woman, of whom you know nothing and you learn so little that you wanna know more about why he is referring to her…
well i hope this comments are useful (or whatever you may find them), your writing is good, very good, like your photography!…
XOXO Dd Firebolt
Comment by Dd Firebolt! — 1213153109 24:162 11.06.2008 1 @ 165 02:58:29 +0000 UTC0 0