Welcome to my writing corner. Here you'll find stand alone stories and tales that stretch much longer. You'll find tales ranging from medieval adventure to modern stories about real people with a sci-fi twist. If you like/hate what you read, drop me a line and let me know.

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Tuesday, August 25, 2009

"Hero's" Story - Chapter 14

A meeting appeared on my calendar at work the next day. It was a one on one with my boss. I’d taken off as soon as he had recognized me the day before and hadn’t figured out what I’d tell him.
I sat down in the conference room as he closed the door.

“First of all, don’t try to play dumb. I know it was you.”

He just trumped my first tactic.

His eyes lit up as a light bulb went off in his head. “That’s why you are always tired, and why you come in late all the time!”

There was nothing else to do, so I nodded.

“Shit! What you’re doing is important man. From now on, whatever you need, just ask. Your secret is safe with me.”

I sat, dumbfounded and alone in the conference room. I didn’t even get to talk. What the hell just happened?

I got a lot of sly winks, high fives and shoulder slaps from my boss after that. He was in on my secret; he was the only one in on both halves of my life and it made me feel awkward.

Soon after that, I was on patrol and picked up a couple selling meth. A guy and a girl dressed in white robes with greasy hair and arms tattooed with weird symbols. They were selling to some college kid when I caught them. They immediately got on their knees and bowed before me.

“Do not strike us master, we are earning money for the cause?”

“What cause?” Yeah, I was baffled.

“The second coming has shown himself. God’s hammer will strike the wicked.”

“Are you serious? I’m taking both of you to jail.”

They got up quickly and sneered at me. “You are false! You are an imposter! He will smite you! The Messiah will smite you!”

I’d had enough crazy cultists chat for one day, so I hauled the pair off to the police station. The entire trip was a headache. They went on and on about the second coming and judgment day and how selling meth was “God’s Work”. The two of them kept ranting and raving, even as they were locked up.

As I left the police station I remember thinking ‘I’m glad to be done with this’. Why am I always wrong?

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