Physical

Our first interaction was when I hit her over the head with a toy truck. In my defense, I was five at the time, and she hit me right back.

Our relationship remained somewhat physical, most of the time we spent together as kids was when we were playing soccer (three pennants in a row!) or volunteering with building homes for the needy.

Throughout high school, we stayed friends, even as I took up basketball and she became a state champion runner.

But then one night we got physical.

In my defense I was drunk and she kissed right back.

Take The Shot

Take the shot.

Every time I was about to assassinate someone, I heard his voice.

Take the shot.

He taught me everything, every way to kill from a distance and the needed mindset.

Take the shot.

You couldn't get hung up on the morality of the mortality, you just did thd job and moved on.

Take the shot.

When I got the offer from my current employers, he wasn't a fan, but he told me what I needed to hear.

"Take the shot."

I did, both the job and the final task to get it, which was to shoot him.

Hall Of Power

I used to think that the problem with this place was that everyone was only out to stab everyone else in the back. That no-one truly cared about their colleagues nor their constituents, just about their own position and how to improve it.

Certainly I didn't, I was always looking on how to ensure my position and sabotage my enemies on both sides of the aisle.

But then I got shot. Some crazy nutjob worried about corn subsidies. And all my fellow politicians supported me so amazingly.

It was then I realised they also wanted to look like they cared.

Sky Of Ozone

Leo threw his head back, his thick hair falling back across his scalp. Before him, stretching out into the distance, the golden starlight bridge called him and his new allies. He glanced at them, at much to steel his nerves then to check on their readiness.

The robot, his personality matrix damaged but otherwise still functioning.

The cloned solider, trying to become more than just another body to throw in a looping guard circuit, needing a soul.

And the girl, a stowaway. Name of Rosanna, which felt slightly off but yet appropriate all the same, somehow. He wasn't sure why.

Rechal Janice Worth

He'd been running from responsibility his entire life, thanks to stupidly rich parents who indulged him as long as he stayed on the right side of the law. He had little interest in joining the family business and even less in forging his own path.

But then he was involved in one of his on-again/off-again (and equally rich) girlfriends getting pregnant. The families viewed it as a merger opportunity and also assumed that on this day, as he held his daughter for the first time, he would grow up.

He was on a plane to Tokyo within 4 hours.

Subclause 17, Subsection 6

The Very Important Executive placed the contract before me. The Very Important Executive handed me a pen and smiled, as a couple of his flunkies looked on. I knew I was going to sign it, walking out now would get me a reputation. But I felt the need to at least pretend to do due diligence. So I flicked through the contract as if I was speedreading it then stopped at a random clause, and demanded clarification about what 'ancillary rights' meant.

I guess I got lucky that I picked the one they wanted to screw me over with later.

Needed Rekindling

The candle was about to burn out, a thin trail of smoke and a tiny flame the only thing still illuminating the room. The flame had stopped reflecting off the good silver, the now lukewarm unopened bottle of champagne, the crystal glasses, it now only just spilt light over the cold lobster and the hardened desserts. Apart from the water glass having moved several times, the table was untouched from several hours earlier, when the romantic dinner was supposed to start. But then given she had grabbed his hand and dragged him to the bedroom instead, he didn't mind it.