Sorsha yawned tiredly as she punched the last of the sentence on the old typewriter; it had been her mother’s gift. She was writing her third novel and she hoped it would break the record for her in the market. If Alyson Publishers accepted it, then her entire life would change automatically. Writing was her passion but after her two first novels were turned down by the biggest publishing house in Ohio, her interest in her career had whinnied down drastically. Nonetheless, after seeing the books published by the local publishers and swimming in the little fame that came with being a writer, she decided to give it another shot. This time around, she wanted Alyson to beg to publish the manuscript. She laughed softly and stretched. She was tired and needed to catch her sleep. She stared at the old grandfather’s clock on the wall; it was just past midnight.
Turning off the old hand typewriter, she picked one of the printed manuscripts and read. A new kind of glee crept into her as she read through the sentences she had created. Something crashed behind her and she was startled.
The wind rushed in through the open window, bringing along its accomplice of cold drizzles of rain. Sorsha Wilson, quickly stood up and ran towards the 6 by 4 inches glass sliding window and closed it. She grabbed at her night gown, struggling with the cold wind to retain it around her body. A storm was coming; she knew that before hand when the weather forecasters had foretold it, but she wasn’t expecting it so early in the morning. She had to get to bed, she thought as she headed for the door. She held the wide two-in-one iron door, and just as she tried to close it, something ran quickly towards her, forced the door open and shut it close once inside her home. She was petrified as she stared at the drenched figure standing before her. He had a gun and he pointed it at her.
“Hide me,” the man commanded.
Sorsha nodded and with shaky legs as she lead him to the inner room and hide him in her closet. A loud bang at her door startled her further. She shook in vehemently.
“Tell no one that I am here,” the man in the closet threatened, his gun pointing towards her. Sorsha nodded just as the bang came again. She quickly shut the closet door and ran to the door. She met some uniformed policemen standing outside her door, bedraggled to the skin and shaking like some cold leaves.
“Yes?” she asked, looking up at them inquisitively.
“Did you see a man run towards here?” one of the police men asked.
Sorsha shook her head. “No! Any problem officers?”
“Call the police station should you see any unusual presence around your vicinity or any bizarre visitor. A dreaded gangster is on the run,” another police man said.
“I will,” Sorsha said and tried to shut the door. The second policeman blocked it with his left foot. He stared deep into Sorsha’s eyes threatening daggers, then in a calm voice asked: “Are you sure you didn’t see any bizarre man around here?”
“I told you already, I didn’t,” Sorsha shouted lightly, her hand held firmly to her door, her heart palpitated, her eyes flashing brimstones.
“We shall take our leave now,” the first policeman said as he turned with the rest except; of course for the second policeman whom from all indications was the leader.
“Remember to call us if you suspect anyone,” the second police man said softly. “Sorry for the disturbance and stress, miss,” he apologized.
Sorsha nodded and watched them go before shutting her door then she draggled herself back into her bedroom with wobbly feet. The man was sitting on her vanity table staring blankly at the facial cleanser she bought a day before.
“Are they gone finally?” the man asked. Sorsha nodded. “You’re a good girl,” the man said, “and very intelligent too.” He stood up and picked a pearl jewelry from the table.
“You handled them well,” he smiled wryly. “I would have loved to spend the night with you but I have got a train to catch.” Throwing the pearl jewelry into his pocket, he headed for the door. He bowed slightly to Sorsha and smacked her buttocks lightly .”It was nice doing business with you, girl.” He smirked, tossed his pistol into its leather pack hanging on his waist and headed for the door. “I will be seeing you around girl,” he said and was gone like a flash of lightning.
Sorsha ran to the door but saw only his fading silhouette embracing the torrent of rain in the heavy darkness. Thunder rumbled in the distance and she hugged herself tightly. Grabbing her flimsy night gown, she shut her door. Safe from the threatening rain and vulnerable to the stranger whose visit was just about to change her story.