Sunday 24 January 2016

My Aristotelian Heroine: Anonymous Angel by Shelley Abbey

The buzzing of the fan was all that could be heard in the humid, heat filled room. The courageous crusaders heart was beating immensely. The sweat had begun to flow down the determined woman’s face profusely. Her ears were alert to the sounds of the ageing mans wheeze filled breaths.  A putrid, rancid smell filled the air which, due to the ailing man, could only be coming from him.The woman walked to the bed with intent, as she acknowledged what she had to accomplish. When her cane hit the edge, she climbed onto the feeble figure. The  elderly man stirred, then awoke in fear. 

“HEL-”
The man’s cry were muffled by the cane pressing onto his neck. 

“LOOK AT MY EYES! LOOK AT WHAT YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR!” the woman cried in anguish.

The senior man writhed in fear, as his eyes were met with grey, glassed ones. 

The sounds of rushing footsteps alerted the woman that she had to act immediately.

“I represent the countless numbers of child labourers, who were killed in the factory explosion 12 years ago. I lost brothers, sisters, my sight! It has taken me too long for this moment to arise. But now that it has come, I want my face to be the last you witness, until you burn at the gates of hell”

With these final words, the woman took out the detonator from her pocket, smiled at the fearful figure beneath her, and pressed the button that completed her mission.



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