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Kid | Started by: BlackCherry on Apr 21, '14 22:18 |
“Your mother would have wanted you to have these.” She gives a cursory glance to the stack of journals, raising one eyebrow, but remains silent. Her gaze returns to the man behind the desk. Heavy set, hunched shoulders, thinning hair; he was like a worn tyre trundling out its last few yards before collapsing in on itself - a flapping, deflated rubbery mess. Still. He was authority. She knew better than to let personal opinion compromise her conduct. “As you know, you’re already set up with a place to go. Be thankful for that kid, few get their start quite so easily,” he wheezed into a stained handkerchief. The strain showed in the way his eyes bulged from their sockets. “Off you go. There’s cash in an envelope inside the top journal. Should be enough to get you started and your family will take care of anything else.” Cherry stretches nonchalantly, offering a nod to signal that she understood. Grasping the journals, she stood up and turned to leave. “Oh, and kid?” She turns back, eyebrow raised again. “Good luck.” ********************************************************* As she descended the staircase, she noticed a shadow by the doorway. The figure was cowering, obviously hiding from something. She slowed her pace, allowing herself to gain a clearer view before getting too close. It was a woman dressed in tattered clothing and torn stockings. She mustn’t have seen water very often, and when she did, it appeared she had to choose between washing with it and drinking it. Cherry cleared her throat, making the woman jump. She stepped forward, grasped the beggar’s hand and shoved the envelope into her palm, closing it into a fist. Before the woman could react, Cherry was marching swiftly down the street. She disappeared down a side alley and found a trash can. Tossing the journals into it, she lit a cigarette and then followed the books with the flaming match. By the light of the makeshift fire, she removed a wad of notes from her pocket and counted carefully, her ears primed for any hint of witness. She folded all but two of the notes back into the folds of her coat, smiling faintly as she recalled the stealth with which she had conquered the safe in a small town bank several miles north. She was no stranger to crime. It was the only life she’d known before being adopted. She’d come from the gutter and she was only too happy to return - except this time, she’d make a career of it. |
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