****** Come in Stokes, and lock the door behind you. Stokes entered, he could see Ms. Dawson sitting calmly behind her desk, and the morning light reflecting off every spec of dust in the stuffy room. Please, sit, my friend. Ms. Dawsons arm extended to him, a brandy in her palm. Stokes gladly accepted and sipped while she rose from behind her desk, smiling graciously. I know what you are, Mr. Stokes, and i know this because I am, it, too. We are similar in many ways that we chose to hide. Ms. Dawson noted that Stokes face did not change, no sign of emotion. He remained in his chair, appreciating the brandy. This, only solidified her suspitions. We do a very good job of it, she continued, our kind, we must stick together. Dawson crossed the room, stirring her drink as she paced back and fourth. Our kind? Im sorry Ms. Dawson but i am having a hard time understanding exactly what you mean. Stokes adjusted his posture at this time, crossing his right leg over his left knee, and slumping a little in his chair. Ms. Dawson smiled at him again with that warm, understanding smile. He had loved her smile for years, she was always so warm and kind, contrary to the cave that she called an office. We are sociopaths, my dear friend... *******
Posted on: Tue, 16 Sep 2014 14:49:22 +0000
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