Welcome Visitor: Login to the siteJoin the site

The Man In Black

Short story By: Lazarus
Thrillers



A seemingly innocent girl encounters that which she hates most. Ignorance.


Submitted:Jun 8, 2009    Reads: 107    Comments: 2    Likes: 0   


If there was anything in the world Danika hated more than ignorant people, she had yet to discover it. The man in front of her continued pulling on the door, which displayed a rather large sign saying, "PUSH." With each pull he made, she hated him more. His awkward, nervous humor about the door not opening wasn't persuading her to forgive him, either. Danika began wondering how many pulls it took the average person to realize it was a pushable door, and whether or not this man had doubled it quite yet. Her hate and anger began sinking deeper, reaching into the primal emotions of rage when it happened...

The man pushed the door open.

Ecstasy washed over her. It was like mankind discovering fire all over again, except this time she was there to witness it. In her relief, for just a split second, she forgot her hate of the pulling man. It was as if the ordeal had never happened, and the world was whole once again.

As she made he way through the door, and past the man in front of her, he looked at her. He gave a apologetic nod of the head and wave of the hand. Danika returned a glare so dark, it was if her eyes were dams withholding the floods of hate and ill will towards the man. She hoped the man feared for his life, because had he taken the same turn as her, she would have feared for it as well.

It ultimately did not matter, though. While she could never forgive him, she would forget him soon enough, and in that, Danika found her peace. The man could go about his life, pulling on push doors for as long as he wished, so long as their paths never crossed again. She may have hated him more than anyone she had ever met, but at the same time she respected his own personal choices in life, however ignorant they may have been.

The incident over, her mind moved on to more pressing matters, like the five hundred grams of homemade C-4 plastic explosives in her backpack, and the button on her phone that detonated it. Both seemed to weigh much heavier than they should have. In truth, five hundred grams was not a lot, and she had hoped to make more, but the recent changing of events had forced her hand. Thankfully, it would be enough so long as the man in black sat where he normally did. It would all be over after today.





0

| Email this story Email this Short story | Add to reading list



Reviews

About | News | Contact | Your Account | TheNextBigWriter | Self Publishing | Advertise

© 2013 TheNextBigWriter, LLC. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Privacy Policy.