Emma with the Back Pocket that Stretches to Fit
By paborama
- 1130 reads
Zam! The taxi door slammed shut and the cab ascended into the air. Emma, cool to within a nanometre of godesslike, stretched her legs, breathed in deep and raised her arms to Heaven in a catlike motion that would have had men and women rushing to buy her some milk, if there had been people about or, for that matter, milkstands.
The People's Square was devoid of life, barring a few military personel that looked like ants from here, so vast was the broad expanse of concrete paving and so grandiose the surrounding architecture. Emma smiled as she took in Bandeiro's Victory Pillar in the centre fountain, its eighty metre height was topped with a pink marble funerary urn that made the whole thing look even more phallic. Bandeiro had decreed the ashes of the fallen generals be kept atop his pillar to celebrate the strength and bravery of those he had defeated, the implication being that he was untouchable even by those. Emma blew her lips out in amusement. Men.
She strode up the steps to the Security Palace and showed her ID to the guard on duty. He nodded her through and the doors vanished as she passed through the force field into the lobby. Within all was black, starkly contrasting with the bleached brilliance outside. Emma felt strangely at home, a shiver of delicious warmth crept up her spine. She flexed her hands and marched over to the desk. Opting for the self-scan, her eyes attested to her appointment and she was let through the gate into the walkways beyond. Choosing to take the HORS, she straddled her mount and was whisked off immediately.
Arriving at the office with five muinutes to spare, Emma unlocked the door and slid behind the curtains of what was, effectively, the seat of government. There, lying in some state, was a sweating, shivering parchment of a man. The four poster bed his shield now, where once he'd had an army. A withered eyelid opened upon the face of this most feared ruler and a rheumy eye struggled to focus.
'Bandeiro, I have come.'
The eye twinkled, 'ah, Emma. What will you do to me?'
Emma knelt beside the spectre and reached into her back pocket...
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Comments
enjoyed this, lots of spark
enjoyed this, lots of spark and personality in the writing. i liked shivering parchment of a man and withered eyelid near the end. :-)
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