Never underestimate the awesomeness of someone disappearing from your life, who would rather hold you back from change, in order to remain in comfortable surroundings. Even if that someone should be you!
Never allow yourself to accept an average existence to someone else’s expected conformity to their dreams. But seek out the your own path of breakthroughs.
Some say, if you make good sound judgments, breakthroughs will seemingly fall from the sky. Life will be easy. You’ll be an overwhelming success. But then good judgments come from experience. And all of that comes from bad judgments being made in the first place.
So it is easier to look for the easy way out of any of life’s problem by seeking out a miracle breakthrough provided by someone else to you. But then, you’d be living up to someone else’s risk reward, success or failure, dreams vs. realities, not to mention their willingness to extend their own efforts to you. Not really any breakthrough you can hang your hat on. What is this thing called a breakthrough really?
Breakthrough’s are those small moments in our life, in specific portions of time, where we have tried so hard to overcome an impossible problem, and then we get one more flash of an idea that enters our brain. Now try this! Is that sudden spark of an idea kindled in our subconscious and all it takes is that spark to create a fire, to uncover that breakthrough. Be it a specific answer that we’re looking for. To that working challenge, or some relationship challenges, or just some great obstacle encountered along life’s road towards our dreams, all of these things may require another try. When seemingly we have already made all of the then known attempts at overcoming them.
If you are looking for a breakthrough, or trying to overcome a problem, within yourself, or within a relationship, at work, or with a working relationships and or project. In short, solutions to all. We must remember there is no such thing as a drive-through breakthrough. There is no fast food ordering window for some future success with little efforts. There is no such thing as a happy meal without effort made of ourselves in finding those breakthroughs. There are only moments or pauses where we have to wait for that lightning strike of an idea to enter our thoughts–creating a pathway that may also produce that breakthrough we are looking for. Yet an idea alone isn’t any guarantee that a breakthrough is happening, or will happen.
Solutions come from trying things. Learning from things, learning things from our efforts while actively trying to move forward. We only get to have breakthroughs by going through. We don’t get to see changes happen without efforts unless we are weather watchers. Sometimes the biggest changes that need to happen in our life’s are also keeping us from a breakthrough, change that needs to take place within ourselves, changes that are so often also avoided.
Consider just how hard it is to change yourself, and you’ll understand what little chance you have at changing someone else. Yet, we do try. Don’t we? To often we try to change others for our own comfort, while we repeatedly bath in our own discomforts. Don’t expect someone else to make any efforts that you’ll need them to make in order to attain your dreams. You’ll be more often than not disappointed.
The next time you’re tempted to take the drive-through route towards a perceived outcome, goal, wish, or some visionary expectation we have for ourselves, thinking we are creating our lives as they would’ve turned out by now already. Don’t be disappointed, frustrated, and or depressed, but be thankful.
“Be thankful for your struggles, because without them you wouldn’t have found your strengths.” (Quote unknown)
And without strength of endurance, brought about by repeated actions, that wonderful world of breakthrough’s may be just beyond your reach. Reaching one small goal at a time and then moving on to the next, is what propels us to great heights. Success may look to be always out of our reach. But looking backwards for prospective, our life is a pathway of stepping-stones, stones of one success after another that we have walked upon. Beyond the hear and now is the unknown, there is the unseen obstacle, the unthought-of breakthrough, and yet, over time we will have moved along some more of life’s stepping-stones of success.
Life isn’t fair! So we shouldn’t expect equal outcomes. We shouldn’t compare ourselves to others despite the fact that we both have walked along life’s same pathways for a time. Life wasn’t supposed to be measured by some medium of score keeping. Nor should we measure it by the amount of breaths we take. But rather measure the value of life or success by the times something has taken away your breath with amazement. Sometimes realizing a breakthrough to our problems isn’t a real breakthrough at all. Doing something we’ve known about in the back of our minds, and still choosing not to do it; even when we then change our choice and do it. That choice doesn’t really qualify as a breakthrough. That’s avoiding the obvious? Maybe the biggest breakthrough in our individual life’s, is accepting that our attitudes are usually the biggest obstacles encountered as we work towards our goals.
All the best.
Coffee has become my life’s escort. It isn’t a question for me to ask why or how come? Just to sit back and enjoy the ride. After all, didn’t we find ourselves alive and full of life without having asked to be?
Do we need to question the very essence of what makes us all different yet all similar?
Perhaps some of you are still looking for yourselves—yet still alive just the same. And imagine, without having been asked. Why do we need to explain ourselves and our innermost passions or feelings to anyone? Should we? I mean, maybe to our closest of friends perhaps? So what if coffee holds that special place in our hearts, in my heart, secretly or outwardly it shouldn’t matter? It shouldn’t change the way you’re looking at me, now that you know about my life’s cherished escort.
To acknowledge passion or passionate feelings towards something or someone is the essence of being alive. It’s not just my pounding heart that makes me aware that I’m alive beyond my own living of life. We are all individuals, with individual likes and dislikes—hidden or boldly held out in the open for friend or foe to see. So I will admit it. For me it is coffee. And coffee is so much more than caffeine. It is the ability to relax and reflect in a still quiet moment. In that morning ritual, at that afternoon break, or that night cap just before bed with a decaf blend. Enjoying my safe harbor, the warmth of my love, within the sights and sounds of our rat race lifestyles held at bay. Even if its only for a fractional part of my day, it allows me to dream a tad as I watch the clouds of light colored creamer swirling then mixing into the blackened liquid–now turned light brown.
Perhaps it’s all about those slower moments, those portions of the day where we steal time to relaxed with each other for a bit; giving into to those probing thoughts of new goals, quests, or desires, or a moment to ponder and study a new philosophy, or just an escape for awhile. That moment free from all time commitments? Time affords us an open opportunity to wonder and quietly question our existence or its meaning. Time, has also never been asked to be. So it is what we all have in common.
So it really doesn’t matter what is behind your passions or feelings, or how we use the time that we all have. There is no need to justify or explain yourself to anyone unless you choose to? It is our time, our life, our choice so take some ownership to when or if we should explain our motives our Feelings—just things in the end where at times we have a love hate relationship. No huge concern need be made, no renewed why, or how come needs to be offered.
Feelings are meant to be felt. Those feelings or reactions needn’t be shaped by outside expectations to justify emotions or having felt them as you do. After all feelings can be simple or completely complex, hidden within or just as explosive as firework displays? I think of them as being simple like coffee. Rich and creamy, full flavored, cold, or hot, like the tickling warmth of a lovers touch. Imagine what feelings stir your memories or just brings back a smile to your face while remembering the last time you enjoy them. Maybe it’s just as simple as the last opportunity you have had to be or be left alone with a cup in your hand. Perhaps emotions can add to, or even spark something within, an addition to life, to those enjoyable indulgence we search to treated to.
Like going out to Starbucks and enjoying the atmosphere, the opportunity to watch and to observe people? Who really knows what secretly makes us tick, or quickens the pulse? Coffee maybe that dream that favorite place where secret indulgences meet life to embody what I crave. An opportunity that brings to life my love. Living while finding the interesting and exotic. That pure delight, that smoldering spark, a moment in which we can share simple and beautiful things in the company of others? Coffees and its aroma expresses a different time and place, the exoticness of her elements within soil, sun, rain, and air, all of which is captured within a single and solitary bean turned into my liquid incense the aroma that soothes. The warm cup in the hand and that sent taken as I breathed it into my nose, imprints an imaginative spectacle of different exotic places and their hillsides where coffee has been blessed to grow. Specifically it is coffee that brings new and vivid colors to our creative imaginations, to our emotions and thoughts held privately and unshared. Caffeine quickens and renews our abilities to polish life, to take the ragged edge off, allowing a moment to awake us to dream still more.
It’s clear, that the range of our experiences with coffee won’t fit into the narrow confines of logic and reason. We may search but never find those answers. And if we did find our answers to all our questions, would they be the same; would they be different to everyone, like feelings, emotions, passions, or our own zest for life while living it?
We may become muses of ourselves; to share or want to be shared with, to be accompanied into an exploration of those deep rooted passionate feelings for another human being, or our willingness to share all life and what it has to offer us. And why not? It would be a twofer… Enjoying the elixir of life—a lifetime worth of dreams comingled and explored, and expressed, while being embraced in its aroma and your company, all the while holding a cup of coffee. An experience shared with the apple of your eye, that one and only sitting in the chair across from you. So why not ask this one, out of all those people in this coffee shop–is this chair taken……
Why wait? A life awaits to be enjoyed, to be lived, one cup at a time.
All the best.
Aren’t we all just moving through life at the speed of thought?
Every great dream begins with a dreamer. Always remember, you have within yourself the strength, and the patience. So never underestimate the awesomeness of someone disappearing from your life. Some people would rather hold you back from change, in order to remain in comfortable surroundings–as your friend. Are indeed those kinds of people, who lack the strength to be unconditionally supportive, are best for you to let go of.
“Never allow yourself to except an average existence to someone else’s expected conformity to their dream.”
Any worthwhile success is built on overcoming negative obstacles, and it just so happens all to often the most negative people who are claiming to be your friend, by saying that they are looking out for your best interests. Are only attempting to remain in the same comforted position in life. In truth they’re of lack of support of you individually or your endeavors is out of jealousy that they have of you! Their negativity is their excuse that they put forward for not also chasing their dreams into the great unknown that is life.
It’s lonely at the top because so few people put their fears aside and push forward—living outside the state of fear. Instead they’re gladly accepting an average existence, listening to their detractors.
While there are forces of compliance and conformity in this society, accepting their solicitation is all to accepting of lowering individual standards in becoming average! When in truth everyone seeks separation through individualism. There is no real room in being average when individualism separates so unequally.
Sometimes the chase is what defines success and its worth, not just capturing it.
You sculpt your destiny one day at a time. For we all are unfinished artworks–the artist is you!
Create something beautiful out of your critics challenges. br />
All the best.
It is said when angle travel, heaven smiles.
What becomes of those sparks, that try to escape the gravitational pull of hells fire?
Life as well as in our dreams, seem to be an endless conveyor-belts worth of beginnings rushing towards us at will. A kids life is full of excitement, interest, intrigue, countless hands on experiences, seamless and endless in wonderment; from one moment to the next, from one dream to the next reality. Life is a wondrous mystery. Questions that are unasked as of yet, soon become all answers arranged according to truths. What can’t be held, examined, experienced, or even tasted, truly isn’t real, or really understood?
A new plaything? Or just a new thing? A new type of food, or something like candy— that isn’t food at all. At least according to parents? But still tastes good. Questions abound, and at times answers aren’t long waited for. There is no such things as information over-load, exploration exhaustion, and no such thing as patience either. To the childish explorer, who views the world as their jewelry-box, and every new thing in it as a treasured gem to explore, a thing to cherish, or something new to learn.
How do you think kids view dreams? Is their first one a good one? Or just some fantasy or misunderstood wonder? Dreams are full of endless possibility’s, a world separated from realty, a new world waiting to be embraced? Could their first experiences with dreams be one of scary fright? Something unrealized, and never experienced before that only seems to come at night? Can we as humans both young or old alike, be frightened over something we haven’t experienced yet? Or would we be… unsure, intrigued, puzzled, unsteady and cautiously curious, like a very young child that examines their first piece of hard candy before tasting it? But what if dreams aren’t all sweet?
That calm easy expression of sleep, where tiny eye-lids are pulled over the eyes like tiny blankets, were fiscal muscles are all relaxed. A vision or a beam of humanity’s light, fiscally expressed as a human angles sleepy face that catches our sight. Peace and quiet are the soft blankets to the soul, giving rest and security to the young and old. But what is the view from the minds vantage point, that dreamers traveling light? A slight tremor at first, building to rapid movements of the eyes. Those same angles eyes covered in delict little blankets, begin to toss and turn, move side to side real quick. Prehaps a tear droplet that slowly escapes like a droplet of wax escaping a hot wick. Breathing that becomes heavy, labored, or distorted like someone who is sick. These are the first indications of a quiet storm that’s soon to arise, erasing that peaceful sleep, that suddenly explodes into a raging storm expressed by half-open sleeping eyes.
Dreams manifest themself’s when we sleep, by the rapid eye movements accompanied with those clumsy unvoluntary twitches of their hands, legs, and feet. Do kids also embrace dreams with interest as adults do? That same kind of intrigue, or wonderment, warped-up and embraced in the same way’s as a child does in the pursuit of everyday life? Do they see the dreams and those dreamy environments as nothing but the same thing as real life, not recognizing their state of rest, a world different when fully alert and awake? Is there a difference in a childs thoughts and mind, when being bathed by a dreams mindset glow?
You have heard the expression: “Dream big or go home!” But what if your dreams are over powering, massive, bigger then life, bigger then your experiences? Bigger then the choices you can, or have ever made?
Can we then control this mystery thing we call “Dreams”? What about fear? Can it be controlled? If so how? How is it possible to control things of the night, imagined or real like monsters that hid out of sight? How is it that under beds or in closets, in that endless darkened night, blinded we only see the never experienced before fear of fright?
We humans are funny after all, we build things and make still other things in a managed way, we build our imagination, and we control them through the art of play? We build and mold something from nothing using our minds eye, we see involuntary visions of what could be and then we create it from pictures we only see. Is it all by our own power, or by the angles who would whisper in our ears while we sleep? Those authors of imaginary delights, who would fill our heads with fun-filled adventures, where the impossible is possible, where there is a land of laughter, smiles and delight, that feeling of weightlessness or of flight.
Who should then prompt us with those deep sounds of the night? Those more sinister and mysterious, those hollow bones or sounds of terrors fright. The cool breezy sensations of the devils wing, or of spiders webs against our skin? Who sends all manner of entanglements that obscure us from all enlightened sight. A blinding curtain to snare our imaginary consciousness. Twisting and turning our minds thoughts into a blenders whirl, life’s storms rages on, just beyond our awakened state. Where is our understanding of it all? Is it just out of reach, or does it hide on the other side of sleep?
Dreams; those times where we encounter the unknown. That angels gentle kiss as we drift off to restful bliss. Or that old angels kick! The cold sweat, the racing heart, twitching churning feeling within, that storm that rages beneath our blanketed eyes. Dreams are a world of raging fright, or balloons on weightless flight, bumping against that razors edge, exploding on impact of lighting strikes, truly there is a difference between day and night?
Because there are no mass-produced humans, no rules, or rule books, no instruction manuals to them all. Is there no way to know those secrets of our dreams? Is there no control over dreams or so it seems, no wisdom that lies just under the surface, no one to even ask? Just adventures yet undiscovered, some good, some bad, some so bold, they will be relived, dreamed again until we are old? Do our dreams really matter? With no tour guides, guiding us passed our lonely places within, or those treacherous places we haven’t yet been? Should we just causally consume them as if they would be our nightly entertainment? How is this best explained to our kids, after that visitation from the terror by night; that fear of an endless conveyor-belts worth of new beginnings, where happy ever after seems so far away as it is chased by night?
So easily we bandage a wound so it to can heal. So easily we kiss away tears of pain, all to reassure, to comfort, to calm the rapid betting heart. So eagerly our arms become blankets of reassurances. But with dreams where do we place the band-aid to heal? To be able to then explain to childs point of understanding? Can anyone really hold closely and examine this mystery of why some angels viciously kick us at night, through the power of fright? How do we hold a dream of terror, at arm’s length away, to learn and examine like with all other hands-on experiences, like those experiences or lessons at play?
How can we? When a dream is like catching the wind in the palm of our hands. A supper heroes efforts in build a hand-made prison. Desperately defending by the use of those desperate grasps, those clumsy unvoluntary twitching, from sleeping motioning hands. We reach for that dream… that terror by night! We grasp at it, like its our last effort to do away with fear while putting up a good fight. That devils kicking kiss that desperately squeezes past our fingers, escaping our desperate grasp. But then there is nothing to hold! Nothing to examine, not even a tickles worth, or a tickling kiss who’s tickle would last long after we loosen those clutching hands, checking with a gasp. Did we? Could we have? Can we then find a way of explaining or even understanding, our first dreams or those empty questions that abound? Where is the childish satisfaction, that healing, with a properly placed band-aid to the wounds brought to us endless or so it seems on life’s conveyor-belts of new experiences in dreams? Where is the peaceful gift for traveling angles hidden? Where do hells angles travel when God is not around? What is allowed? What is forbidden?
The question still seems to remain…. Where do dreams come from?
All the best.
Featured image was a Facebook copy, copyright unknown if any. Would like to give credits where they are due though, when I can.
Well I’m looking at a blank screen with that annoying blinking arrow, wondering just what to write about. Writers block of some sorts. But where to start on this subject if you haven’t had the experienced before? Writing is somewhat a mix-up exercise, combined with experience, sprinkled with others writings you have read. With fiction or sci-fi, there is no way to have experienced it in life, other than bits and pieces. It is a dream like experiences, wrapped with truth, fiction, and colorful commentary’s. All to compleat a picture of words within the reader’s mind. It therefore has within it endless possibility’s, no boundary’s, governed only by the imaginary impulses given to the fingers typing thoughts, out loud.
Dan walked into the bar with long even strides, a man on a mission. The bar offered a semi-dark environment to gather some thoughts. As he approached the long row of bar stools, removing his top coat, placing it on the stool next to the one he sat in. From the counter to ceiling the back wall was mirrored. Shelves running the length of the bar, and up to within sixteen inches of the ceiling or so. The shelving-display. Displayed a wealth of well stocked bottles of spirits. Different bottles of booze was the style of the bar, as well, the only decorations aside from the dark oak woodwork on display. On the right side at the end of the bar was a library type of ladder on a rails. Bar tenders used the ladder by moving it into position in order to retrieve bottles from any of the shelves including the top ones closest to the ceiling. Lighting was dim, made slightly brighter by the reflections, through the bottles of booze and off the mirrored wall.
” What can I get you? Asked the bar tender. Offering her semi seductive smile painted on her face, in order to collect bigger tips. Friendly, and easy to look at she offered the smile towards male patrons in a well rehearse way.
Dan turned to meet the voice, offering his smile in return. ” Sure! I would like to have some dark red wine, not totally dry, but some what sweet. Nothing too special. ” Dan included, with another smile.
” All right. I have just what you may like then.” She said. moving down the bar, retrieving a bottle, and wine glass. Placing a napkin then pouring a small amount into the glass and handing it to Dan, looking for his approval with a small taste to wet the appetite.
Whooshing the wine around the glass, and then breathing in a long smell of its aroma, before tasting it. With a nod of his head, he gave his approval. ” Yes exactly what I was thinking. That’s perfect, thanks.” he said.
She poured the glass of wine, wiped the neck of the bottle and replaced a topper cork into the bottle. ” That’s $ 7.00 please of course, I could run a tab if you like?” She flashed the money-maker smile, along with a good amount of eye contact. Craft of the trade, for bigger tips to be made. Was the bar owners motto, of which she followed to a tee.
“Ah. A tab would be fine, all though this will probably be the drink for the night.” Dan took a sip of the wine, while also drinking in the bar tenders equally intoxicating look.
She smiled and said. ” Well I’ll check back with you in a bit then. Enjoy! ” Moving down the bar to the next patron. Like a worker bee. She moved from client to client offering the mood altering spirit, while collecting the economic nectar to take home back to the hive.
Playing with the alexandrite that raped his ring finger was a nervous habit. The ring that appears to be dark green in day light and deep red under artificial lighting. A unique gift given to Dan by his ex, when he re-entered the civilian world after a stay in the military. He was often mesmerized with the changing colors of the ring as it caught the lighting of his environment. Stirring thoughts and memory’s deep within his mind of lost time, and lost opportunity’s of her again. Like the changing colors of the ring, he remembered the relationship as the on and off again red-hot type. But after the accident all he had was the ring of memories.
The room seemingly fills up with a louder tone as more people come in for the end of the day drink. Aside from the larger crowd of an office worker party. This place was hopping. Above the normal clinking of glasses and bottles of spirits, people in gauged in small talk and laughter. Along with the waiters and waitresses, taking orders, or presenting them. The room had a low tone roar of a popular place getting busier.
Dan took a nonchalant glance around the bar, taking in the sights and sounds, as well observing people’s faces. It was as if he was looking for someone, in a way so he wouldn’t be the one to be notice first. satisfied, he turned back to his glass of wine. Taking a sip, re-swirling the wine in the glass his thoughts slowly disappeared from reality’s as he watched the ripples of wine slowly dissipate to a smooth calm pool of dark smokey cherry red.
Why did he take the job? Its only appearance was one of a one way mission. Dan pressed the number fifteen button, as the elevator doors swished closed. readjusting the shoulder holster holding the nine millimeter, and re checking for the silencer in the right pocket. He mentally was prepared to attach the silencer as practiced many times before, in record time. adrenalin was pouring into his system, yet he remained cool calm and collected.
Mr. Smith was the target, with his offices on the fifteenth floor. The firm on its outward appearance just a financial law firm. But deep in the cannons of the secret inner workings a nest of competing operatives. Mr Smith was the man in the know, just the head of the snake. Nothing special! But the brown file was the icing on the cake. Taking someone out wasn’t new of sorts to Dan. But the first while being a civilian so to speak. It wasn’t so important to kill the man unless, and more than likely he will get in the way of the obtaining the file, kill was then the mode of operations. By any means necessary was the order.
Dan gave a last minuet quick brush of his hair, by running his fingers through it. Reddy to go as planed. Looking good and playing for keeps. On this stage of life, looking the part was the cover to being unnoticed. Like the apple and the worm. Dan didn’t wished to be noticed untill someone would cut into the apple, or untill the plan was tripped by the worm re-emerging out of his worm hole. In either case it would then be too late, he would have worked passed the outer defences if any.
The door opened and Dan using his longer stride, was off, turning to the right, down the hallway. For weeks Dan had practiced this, and had read the floor plans many times untill he could remember them like the back of his hand. The fourth door to the left was security for Mr. smith. Dan stopped suddenly looking around the corner of the door jamb. No one in side. Reaching into his holster and pocket at the same time. He attached the silencer to the gun. The door at the end of the hall, just a Meir 3 doors away was the prize. Anyone could come out of anyone of those doors. Friend or foe, it was the worm jumping out of the apple.
Dan moved towards the end door. The last door opened and one of the security guard walked out into the hall. Dan fired two rounds. One into the chest and one into the head between the eyes. Dropping the man in a heap. Leaping over the body he reached out for the door handle. When the door suddenly opened.
” Mr. Smith! So nice to see you! ” Dan shoved the gun into his stomach and moved into the office, then closing the door. ” Sit! Make yourself comfortable. This will only take a bit of your life anyway.” Dan flashed the patented smile. Mr. Smith wasn’t so inclined to return the smiley attitude.
Dan wedged a chair under the door handle so the door couldn’t be opened. Then he moved towards the desk, and the prize.
“Now where did you put the brown file?”
” Go to hell!” Barked Mr. Smith.
” Now not so fast. That’s no way to treat a guest.” Dan rounded the desk and approached his victim like a spider about to pounce on a fly trapped in its web.
I was told. No! Back up a bit… I was given some great intelligence that you have it in this office right now. So just give it to me and I will be on my way.” Dan said. While pointing the gun at Mr.Smith at point-blank range. ” I’m not going to miss from here.”
” You will never get out of here with it. If I had it! ” Mr. Smith replayed nervously. Glancing to his left at a stack of papers and a slightly open drawer.
Dan was cold and calculating, also noticed the slight glance off to the side. Dan wasn’t going to tip his hand just yet, and so turned around looking at the walls of the office. ” So Behind the art in a wall vault. Eh? ” Dan asked. He heard the desk drawer slowly opening behind him. Spinning around firing one round into Mr. Smith shoulder, the bullet impact knocked him backward out of his desk chair and onto the floor.
” You have to be an early bird to get the worm Mr. Smith!” Dan moved over to the drawer and finished opening it to have a look inside. At the bottom of the drawer was a small 22 caliber. ” A Gun! You made a move for a toy gun? You are really not thinking streight are you?”
Mr. Smith slid himself towards the window wall behind the desk, and propped him self up holding his shoulder with his good hand. Blood was seeping through the suit jacket between his fingers. ” I’m not going to tell you any thing! Go to hell!”
Dan rummaging through the drawer and the papers on the desk. When he noticed a paper with a line on it that just drained the color out of his face. He snatched the paper up and shoved it into his pocket, as he moved towards the front door. A small side window running the along the side of the door was the only view out of the office back down the hall. The same path way Dan had gained entry to the snakes lair.
Looking down the hall, Dan no longer saw the body of the guard, and there was no movement, or sounds of anyone living in it. Dan whispered. ” Set-up! ” As he moved with more caution back towards the desk.
Mr. Smith was just sitting there with a scowl, propped up still holding his hand to the bullet wound. ” You really didn’t see it coming did you? Who is the early bird now kid? ”
Dan was just gathering his thoughts and assessing his next move. Thinking there was some other point to the paper he had in his pocket he removed it and unfolded it to have a nother look.
Top secret; The brown file was forwarded on Wednesday by secure fax. The powers that be will be looking for the file and so raise the security level on all facility’s untill further notice. Destroy the files orignal. End. The time stamp of the return fax was 2 hours ago.
Dan crawled over to the shredder at the printer table off to the side of the desk. Throwing the top off the basket He saw the brownish confetti like paper. Confirming the fear. It was destroyed after it was faxed.
The wind was let out of his sails, the adrenalin had run its course, Dan was physically drained. Any minuet the door will surly burst down and a hail of bullets will be launched his way. The will to live was the animal instinct that drives us all under stresses to move when our body is screaming stop!
Dan got up and quickly stepped back away from the desk, pointing the gun in the direction of the window fired a round at the glass. The window shattered blowing out into the city’s skyline. Dan removed the over coat, then his suit jacket. Reveling a slim base jumpers shoot. Dan’s secret weapon for escaping. Good thing the office recommended it as his survival life line.
Mr. Smith started to laugh. ” Your kidding? Your jumping.. base jumping out of here?” He started to laugh again.
” I’m not getting shot to ribbons here for something that is out in the world of internet traveling electronically to who knows where. Traveling towards who knows who. Maybe even my office has intercepted it already?”
“Ya! Just keep up the faith man. But did you ever wonder who packed the shoot?” Mr. Smith re-adjusted himself and giggled with delight. ” You have been set up! The plan was, send you just for insurance. Just incase we were slow with communications or actions with instructions.”
“I don’t need your sinister views right now. I’m just going to get out while the getting is better in my favor.”
” If you packed the shoot then that kind of thinking would be great. But your handlers could also be waiting for there guy to fall from the sky and scrape the file off the pavement leaving you behind as calculated road kill.” He laughed again untill the pain stopped him. ” You know, believe what you want. That would have been my plan for someone expandable.”
Dan hesitated for just a moment. Thinking through his plan one more time. He hadn’t packed the shoot, but if death was inmate then freedom of flight wood be preferable then shredded like confetti. Dan offered his big smile. Saying. ” It must be your birthday. Happy birthday! ” Leaping out into the city’s windy skyline as if he was jumping across to the other building.
“Sir are you okay?” The bartender was shaking Dans arm trying to get his attention. ” Do you need some help? ”
Dan snapped out of his day-dream, surprised . He went to wipe his face with his hands and spilled his wine. Jumping off the bar stool trying to avoid the spilling wine, running over the edge of the bar.
” Are you okay? I can call someone if you like?” The attractive bartender wasn’t marketing her self with a seductive smile. But more stern looking like a mother scolding a child.
” No! I’m fine. Just trying to enjoy some wine.”
” Have you been drinking somewhere else before coming here? ”
” Look I’m fine. I was just relaxing and doing some visualization technique. Have a big day tomorrow.” Dan was trying to grab some napkins and wiping the wine where he could. Glancing up to the bartender making eye contact again he said. ” Sorry for the wine abuse. But really I’m good. Thanks for your concern.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out some cash placed two twenty’s on the bar. Jabbing his index finger twice on the bills he said. ” Thanks again, that should cover my clumsiness. Sorry. Have a safe night” He grabbed his over coat, turned and started his way towards the double entry doors.
As he passed out of the bar doors he regained his confidence. It was true he hadn’t packed the base jumpers shoot. Could he … have been?He rounded the west corner of the main lobby in time to see Mr. Smith walking towards the bar. Dan just kept walking out of the building not even taking much notice. So as to keep from being made or drawing attention. Once outside he glanced back, the lobby was empty. No one was coming after him or following.
Crossing the street he paused for a moment to look through the bar windows, a street view for the patrons, a great looked in side for Dan, who was stocking his pray. With no trouble he recognized Mr. Smith. He was being worked with the bar tenders tip subduction smile. Standing there he thought he could take aim and shoot him right here unnoticed, no base jumping required. Dan looked up and down the street thinking should he?
Glancing back to the bar he saw Mr. Smith grabbing his neck as if something was wrong. Choking on something? Dan ran across the street and peered into the window for a closer look. A white foam was pouring out of Mr. Smith’s mouth. Dan knew right off. Poisson! Its true! Dan thought. The office did set him up at all cost. Multiple assassins for this guy, or…. Looking towards the bar he saw the attractive bar tender, looking his way with a slowly disappearing seductive smile.
Well I haven’t tried to kill anyone, nor do I ever wish to! I’m not a spy in real life, nor an assassin either. So I think this passes for a compleated assignment of ” Writing about something you haven’t ever experienced.”
All the best.