The One Where I Write a Short Story

I walked right up to the post office and opened the doors. When I stepped in, I felt a sudden churn in my stomach, telling me what I was about to do was wrong. I walked through the uncertainty and went to her P.O. Box. I took out the key chain I stole from her purse and took a look at it. A bright pink tassel with green stripes on it. I closed my hand around it and looked around. 

A woman at the counter looked at me strangely, but I ignored it. I needed whatever was in the P.O. Box. I picked out the right key and placed it in the lock slowly, I felt the clicks of the key’s teeth vibrate against my fingers. I turned it slowly as well, once I opened it I looked back at the woman. She wasn’t there. 

I saw the package I needed, and I took it out, shaking it gently to make sure it was in there. It was. I looked back where the woman was and she was joined by a man. They were both still at the desk helping people about their lives, but I knew they were eyeing me.  

There was a sudden frenzy of activity at the main desk, there was some shouting in the back and then a woman ran out of an office, partially clothed, followed by a man wearing even less. He was shouting at her, “No, not like that! I didn’t mean to! Anna, I’m sorry!” 

She screamed, “Fuck you, pervert!” and ran out of the post office. 

Then he pulled his pants back up and started throwing any and everything he could get his hands on, The man who was at the front desk restrained him, while the woman must’ve called the cops because before I could lock the P.O. Box again, there were about three police men in the front.

I quickly tucked the package under my arm, and took the keys out of the lock, but dropped them. They attracted the attention of the nearest policeman who eyed my quickly, as I picked them up. I hastily got out of there. 

The fresh air was nice on my sweaty face, but that didn’t last because before I could exhale, the cop from the post office was trying to call me back. I did the first thing I could think of, ran. I ran and ran; I knew he was on my tail but I had to get this package to him or I’d be dead, in prison or out. 

I took the first turn I saw, and kept on hauling it. I took a quick look back and saw there were more men chasing after me. I had to get out of there, whatever the cost. People around me were turning to blurs and I kept trying to lose my pursuers by taking turns as quickly as possible. Cars stopped and screeched as I cut across roads. Taxis nearly hit me, but I kept going. 

My breath was getting louder with each echoing step, I knew I was close to my destination because the city was getting greener and greener. I glanced back and saw the cop who was after me, pull out his gun. Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I got to the park where I was to drop off the package. I ran faster and past the playground, and the tennis courts and the swimming pool, filled with people all enjoying the nice summer day. I got to the baseball fields and ran around the backstop. There he was, the man who hired me. 

He asked why I was running, but was so out of breath I couldn’t answer him, then the next thing I knew, the cop and his followers appeared around the corner, the cop with his gun drawn.

“You brought the cops!?” screamed my employer, drawing his gun. 

“Its all a mista–“


The end.



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