Short Story #04: Chelsea

“May I join you?”

Alberon, who was nursing his second whiskey with his head resting in a propped hand, looked up at the young lady and snapped to attention, spilling his drink. She had a pale, softly triangular face, accented with scarlet lipstick, and framed by curly dark hair that fell around the thin straps of her blue dress, leading down to a pair of knee-length boots.

She laughed at the long pause. “So may I?”

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Short Story #03: The Report

“So they just disappeared?”

“Only explanation, sir.” The sergeant said. “There are two ways out that corridor, and my men…sorry, people…er, team”—the sergeant was still coming to terms with the captain’s mandate on how the security services were to be formed—“had ‘em both covered.”

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