Writer's Journey

  It was very well known that Daniel Pierre was a compassionate man. Even as wealthy and famous as he was, he remained humble and kind. He donated to charity, volunteered to rescue puppies, and kissed babies. Well, maybe not the last one, but with the way his fans spoke of him you would think it was true. He was practically beyond reproach. He had never had a scandal beyond ordering pizza with pineapple on it, an impossible phenomena when one is as famous as he is. This made many people suspicious, of course. But if these suspicions were ever voiced aloud, they would be buried under a horde of outraged, rabid fans. So as Daniel Pierre entered his second charity ball of the week, the many rich men and women surrounding him shied away from him. It was almost like he glowed with some holy aura, which made the corrupt businessmen shrink away in horror. He was dressed impeccably in a well-tailored suit, yet it was not so expensive as to seem grandiose. The only people willing to approac...

  Felix knew he was skilled. Some people might think this was overconfidence, and he had been told on several separate occasions that he would be killed with this attitude. But to him, it was a simple fact. He was good at his job, and did his duty well. Without skill, he wouldn’t  be standing in this cold, damp warehouse. He certainly wouldn’t be working for Pedro Carmine, the man who controlled all the human trafficking in Downtown, if he wasn’t skilled. He’d probably be lying dead in some lonely ditch, killed by Carmine’s men. But he’d survived, and convinced the man that his talent at fighting was worth more than repaying his mother’s gambling debts. This was all to say, he was aware of what it took to be a skilled fighter, and a good bodyguard. He had been doing it for many years now, after all. This also meant that when he saw that Margaret Hawke, the queen of the city’s drugs, walked in with a bodyguard who looked like he was still going through puberty, he had many doub...

  Steve had been minding his own business, walking down the street from his apartment to the small coffee store at the end of the block. It had been a part of his daily routine for the last ten years. And isn’t that a miserable thought? In ten years, he had virtually not changed a single bit. He lived in the same cheap place, drank the same bitter coffee, and worked the same soul-sucking job. He supposed that he could try something new. Quit being a bone-tired office worker and pursue his dreams. Spend his meagre savings on a more comfortable place. But Steve had grown used to his life, and despite his complaints, wouldn’t change a single thing. He was so used to his comfortable, slow routine, that when it was eventually interrupted by an unexpected obstacle, he couldn’t help but double-take. To be fair, it wasn’t really interrupted. Nor was it an obstacle. In fact, said obstacle was just scrolling on his phone, rolling skates on his feet, as he leaned back on a park bench in bored...