My feet touched the thick carpet and bunched into little fists. “Ugh!”
That banging needed to stop and now. My mouth felt like I swallowed three sheep, whole. The loud crack started from my ankles, then my knees, and ended on one hip. Straightening, my back picked up the rest of it.
The slippers were where I left them, so I stepped into them and shuffled for my door. Snagging a robe along the way, I threw my arms in it and flipped the cord around itself.
“Screw ‘em.” The banging was louder. “If they come at me this early, I don’t care what they see.”
“Com’on. Open the door!”
“Shaddup.” My hand lands on the door and I feel the smoothness of the metal door on my forehead. I open the slot and am pelted with the blinding light of a high-noon sun. The shadow moves, blocking the blazing heat and light.
“Open up. I need you to fix something.”
“I ain’t open. Come back later.” I slide the plate closed.
A hand darts into the gap and stops the momentum. “I will make it worth your while.”
“No, no you won’t.” I grab the tare with my free hand. “Move it or lose it.”
“You don’t know who I am.”
“Yes I do. It’s my job. You wear black, have special tools, and strike fear in people just by your mere presence. You’re a bad ass. A bad ass that needs me and I say, come back later.”
“You just described a whole lot of people.”
“Fine. Your name is B-”
“OK!” The hand is yanked back and I slam the cover home.
Those people with their money and their abilities. Some are decent, but in the end they think they are above it all.
Those of us willing to fight back, keep our freedom. Even if the overlord is a hot chick like Mosaic Girl.