Story #2: Hatboxes & Handguns
started by @zeldman on Friday, March 12 at 11 PM
She had always hated roses.
Easy ways out, conventional gestures of love or apology sparked only disdain. She required daring.
After the accident and Maxime's funeral, she'd promised herself to never again lead a dolorous existence. Her time had come.
And so it was with great hurry that she packed the last of her hatboxes.
The customs officers would never check them, she was sure of it. So she put the weapon inside the most ostentatious hat box.
She would be in Oaxaca by morning if all went well. There, she would find the man who got away with the murder of Maxime Cho.
Albuquerque, Las Cruces, Juárez, Chihuahua, Torreón. The cities flew by as she hurtled into the black night.
Even though it had been many years since she was an active agent, she could still spot a shadow. This one was easily visible.
Perhaps that was intentional. If discretion had been a priority, the ice cream truck hadn't been a good choice.
And how did an ice cream truck get on the train? It had to be her arch-nemesis: the villainous Non Sequitur, master spy.
She braced herself. You could never tell what he was going to do next.
