Arbeitsprobe · Autorenleben · Kreatives Schreiben · Schreiben

The Woman On The Escalator

Tired, I am so immensly tired. Of course I am, because I did not sleep much last night. And by „not much“ I mean „at all“. I can still feel the rush, when my hands surrounded her neck, pressing out the last breath of air out of her lungs. Oh boy, how she fought. At first. I love when they are fighting, when they think they might have a chance. Oh, sweet memories! But they certainly never have one, because I am too strong, too superior. Physically and emotionally. What I did not like was the fact that she gave up too soon. She realized she was doomed and stopped fighting within a minute or so. Next time I need someone stronger. Maybe with red hair, I guess it might be interesting.Boy, I need a coffee, but the coffee shop in the mall I am standing right now is upstairs. Dammit! The only thing between me and a hot mug of freshly brewed, completely overpriced coffee is a god damn escalator. How I hate escalators! They are the worst. While I stand here, watching the filthy, metall steps move up constantly, I feel that someone is gently pushing me to the side. „Excuse me, are you going up or are you simply enjoying the view?“ I turn around and look into a pair of naughty green eyes that belong to a woman with shiny, long, ginger hair. I open my mouth but I am unable to speak. Her hair has the colour of carrots and she is holding eye contact. She does not look away, a sign of strength. Strong as a tiger. I love hunting wild cats! The trick is to make them feel as they have the upper hand.I step aside and start smiling. „Sorry, I was daydreaming.“ She smiles back at me and my mind explodes. I imagine her sitting in a cage. Naked. All the fun we are going to have.“Thank you, officer.“Sorry, I forgot to mention earlier: women trust me, because I am not a creep. I am a cop.

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