I'm going to continue this but I just couldn't get the opening as good as I wanted. Enjoy this good effort:
As the plane disappeared over the horizon, Charles wondered if he was doing the right thing. Sure, he no longer had money troubles but all he could think about are the people whose lives are going to be ruined. He walked back into his house that was filled by about a million dollars worth of Colombian cocaine and sat down. Not being a drug addict himself, he didn't even drink, he might as well been selling toy trucks. He was trapped in his storehouse nine out of the twelve months in the year and didn't have much to do past counting money or writing letters. All he could think about was his family that he left behind. He sent them weekly packages full of his dirty money and his letters that promised he would be free very soon. He reflected on this one time that he almost got caught. He was in a Colombian post office and was singled out by the drug sniffing dogs. The reason being that the money that filled his package was stained with the cocaine that covered about every bill he received. Although there wasn't enough to bust him, he was taken aside for questioning. After getting his package searched, he was finally released (thanks to using some of that money as a bribe) and had to find a new post office. Being involved in such a risky business, Charles was starting to become more and more paranoid that any shipment would be traced back to him and he would get arrested. He barley slept and any slight noise caused him to jump in fear that they had finally found him. As he sat in the tiny room filled with his livelihood, all he could think about is how he got to this point in his life...
No comments:
Post a Comment