Contracted Doubts (thing)
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[Soft steps] secure a [firm hold] on a position devoid of [human sight]. [Shadows]. The [razo]r cut line between daylight and the nether [world of darkness]. Darting eyes tracking [Peripheral vision|periphery movements]. [Sizing up]. [Staring down]. Sunlight streaking through a monstrous [serrated] [veranda]. Bronze dust and crystal clear sky. Visibility for miles. Orbital patrols stomping black booted paths. You catch the [Check in|crackle of updates] buzzing through the [White Snake|white snaking] wires erupting from their ears. Only a matter of timing. Only a matter of will. The cold [matte black] metal wrapped in your hand reminds you of the task at hand. [Patience]. Memorization. Observation. [Will|Any obstacle can be overcome].
A multi-storied [labyrinth] assembled [congruently] with the [pristine wilderness surroundings]. Hidden in the groves of pines - secretly [hoarding] numerous black spots [impervious] to watchful eyes. Fortified [granite]. A jackhammered stone hardened [keep] equipped with legions of mercenaries - secretly hosting [spooks], [merchants] and industrial [mendicants].
[Pour]ing your [being] between four unwatchful eyes. Slip, blend and move into the lobby of the house.[ Molasses] movements [tarring] your way towards the stepped staircase rising to [undisclosed meeting]s. Wading through the past. Trudging along an unworn path. Finding your way into unnoticed [crevasses] [shadow]-lit spaces and inked out [niches]. Ripe aromas, [garlic] and [corriander] [permeate] the second floor with the essence of age . [Controlled breaths]. [Regulated heartbeats]. Slow leaking sighs as the top floor patrol checks in. Outer hallway. One double door entrance away from a face too familiar. A gun soaked room of [malevolence] waiting to [scratch off] any [unforseen] itch. Gold plates. Silver forks. [Italian silk] woven thread spitting out its fragile call for respect. Too many barrels, too many bullets and too many men. [Adaptation] dictating forks in the path of planning - better to [ride the winds] of the [ventilation system] into the next room. When the [tiramisu] expels its cocoa powder into eagerly awaiting [nostrils] you sniffle slightly in the return air vent above the room. Slotted eyed view of a [dynamic] scene. Heated [temperments] reverberate throughout the room. Raised voices. Finger pointed [accusations]. Only the [cool headed] [reasoning] from the women at the head of the table [decapitates] the beginning of a [malestrom]. Smooth. Calm shredding through tension. [Tactful] recommendations. Reassuring, correcting [blatent ignorence].
Important [diamond bracelet] [handcuffs] lead food stuffed people out of the room. [Dessert] over and the [coffee] finished; out for the [After dinner cigarette|evening’s nicotine]. Emptied room. The weariness of misunderstanding [shrouding] the room in a [maisma] of [lethargy]. She stays behind.
[Alone]. She sits. [Stoic]. Staring blankly at the layered [marscarpone] sponge unaltered from a meticulous chef. [Silk] white blouse. Green [pirahna] [business suit]. A clustered mound of [French salon] styled hair eagerly awaiting a [feral], [mortal] interruption into its [perfectly laid foundation]. You soundlessly pour from the open slotted grate two meters behind the unsuspecting [quarry]. Hammer cocked chamber - explosions ready to empty [metal slugs] into bone encased tissue. Creep slowly. Step. Pause. Sweat. Step. The slightest [floor board creak], faintest [turbulence] in the air, slight splayed shadow smearing itself across the wall; [Knowing someone is watching you|the human instinct receptive to a predator's eyes burning into its being]. Sinews shake normally steady fingers as [.45 caliber|forty-five] [silenced] calibers align themselves with this woman’s head. [Anticipating] the moment of reaction. [Suspect motives] colliding with past memories. She always wore green. It was her [favorite color].
“[I don’t have time] to [baby-sit]. Get it together and figure it out.” Cinder would say. The [precursor] to dialogue about your [confidence]. She was the support behind your [Get the girl|endeavor to get Melissa]. She shoved you forward into your [research]. She sat up in your room late at night playing out all of the [possible scenarios] that could occur. She was your personal [Atlas] bearing the [faults],[ bewilderment] and [delusions] that [chained you down]. The woman behind the [evolution] from timidity to [stalwart] bravery. Female creations molding an endless possibility into reality. An [artisan] unmatched.
“[Excuse] me. I wasn’t really listening.” Your usual reply. Advice from the [Oracle] falling on earless [wonders]. The wisdom to carry a man to greatness brushed by, lost within doubt and [unfulfilled potential]. She was right all along, in [hindsight].
A grade perfect girl, a [model] of [feminine mystic] and power. She wore [masculinity] better than a perfectly [tailored suit]. You remember when she [armlocked] a drunk [Dark Moments In Pictures|Hermes] and [threw him out] on the porch. When she outbluffed the house champ over a college tuition stack of chips in [no limit Texas Hold ‘Em]. [Capable] and [smart], dating only the creators and never those stuck in the cycle of want. She was [Shiva] [incarnate], constantly birthing the creation of [Bhrama]. She could [pierce] [titanium] with an over shoulder glance, but she always had [eternity] to give to you. [Wisdom] is like paint, it only shows its true colors after time.
A ponytailed [general]. Her [charm] and [determination] could lead anyone into action. Moving people into action. Creating [resolve]. She could will an anthill into painting the [Mona Lisa]. With that rare combination of [compassion] and [motivatio]n, she [rocketed skyward] upon the [adulation] of her peers.
Governments suckle at the teat of entities with power and [creativity]. Cinder was [a perfect fit]. Her ability to lead [weapons] [designers] slotted her in with the heavy hitters of the [bureaucratic] [underworld]. She was involved in nearly all of the [covert operations] from the last five years. You could never understand her [motivation] to pursue this [line of work]. Maybe the challenge creating efficiency and [interoperability] within a system rife with [short sighted] [simpletons]. It's a shame she had connections to [An Elevated Train Named Desire|Melissa]. It's a shame those connections would draw the same [antagonists] that had murdered [An Elevated Train Named Desire|Melissa]. People eager to right wrongs. [Eager] to win through resolve.
Straight arm aligned into a [plumb] placement of [paid off] duty.
Tube aligned [death]. A [cylindrical] path to the next life. As she slowly moves her [fork] over the [tiramisu] you hear her sigh. The same sigh that would forgive you when you couldn’t quite [grasp] the [concepts] at hand. Looking around the room. [Graceful]. [Secure]. Slow fingers grasp metallic [hammers] before they fire into [powder] chambered shells. Unclick the device in front of you. Reload feelings of the past. No amount of money could compel the absolute destruction of [understanding] and [warmth]. Erase your [existence] into the overhead vent. Just as you return the grill to it's place your hear her whisper - Goodbye
[An Elevated Train Named Desire|previous]
A big bag of thanks to [MALTP] for the editing.