Thank you for reading and sharing my daily #Storygram short stories! Be sure to subscribe to the Newsletter and check out my film Portfolio!

The Story:

Venice was beautiful during the day, but at night some areas sent his skin crawling. He navigated his boat through a narrow passageway, searching for the orange building with an open garage. Supposedly, she would be waiting for him in a room above it.

He floated along as if on glass, too slow for the water to wrinkle up at the bow. An old bearded man smoking a pipe was leaning on the rail of a bridge above him.

“Going to see her?”

He didn’t see the harm in telling the truth.

“That’s the plan,” he responded.
“I’d come prepared, second go.”

The old man tapped his peg leg with a cane.

“Best of luck,” he said with a grin.

He passed under the bridge, losing sight of the old man. When he looked back from the other side, the man was gone. He strapped on his holster and revolver.

A short distance after the bridge, the orange house came into view. Lights glowed from a room above the garage, but he couldn’t see anyone in it.

Parking his boat was easy with only one other boat there. After noticing the bloodstains on it, he stepped onto the dock and walked to a door leading into a stairwell. At the top of the stairs, only a single wooden door stood between him and the resources he needed… or his death. He reached for the doorknob.

“It’s open,” a female voice called from inside.

Twisting the knob, he opened the door to see an older woman watching him from behind a desk. A hand reached reached around the door frame, grabbed him by his coat, and yanked him into the room. With motions too swift to counteract, a Chinese man removed his revolver and sent him to his knees. Then, he calmly stood by with his hands folded.

“You want a plane to Antarctica and supplies. But no one knows why…”

She leaned forward, putting her elbows on the desk.

“You have 30 seconds to tell me why.”
“The ‘why’ isn’t important.”
“My dear boy, neither is your life.”
“What’s important is what’s in it for you.”
“Ah… I’m listening.”
“A diamond as big as your head.”
“That you don’t want, of course.”
“Nope. I’ll have something better… But you don’t believe in myths.”

She sat back in her chair and smiled.


Think this story should become a book or a short film? Let me know in the comments below!

Pin It on Pinterest

Share This