The blue door

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A short story.

…Sweating …Panting …Running ... from the police. Thousands of thoughts turn blank in my effort to get away. Only one thought remains; do not get caught…by anyone. I stumble around the corner to see them, all grinning at their catch. The owners of the footsteps from the chase presented themselves with a loud cough. I’m trapped! All this confusion, all this corruption began with a dark contract. A contract I signed. Who’d have known something so spontaneous could lead to this!  
 A couple of hours earlier…

Keith, the victim of his own making in this story, found himself with barely five pounds to his name. He owned a scruffy dog, Pedro and half a cheese sandwich. As Keith lay on the street holding up a big issue he wondered if he would ever find himself living like the people who walked by. He would observe the general public who would either check their phones or look the other way to avoid eye contact. However you would occasionally get someone who would seem mildly interested in buying one of these magazines so that Keith would be able to get some source of income. It was these people that Keith aspired to be one day. 
During his efforts to shift the last of his pack of Big issues a small elderly man limped over to Keith and handed him a flyer. “No thank you mister” Keith told him, “I can’t buy anything your selling, I have very little money”. “You are the product, I’m not selling anything” replied the elderly man. And with that he was gone.  Keith found himself very confused; he looked down to read the flyer the man had given him.
 ‘Cash? No questions asked! Visit us, today only! 57 Market Street, The blue door.’ 
Keith thought this sounded suspicious but he thought better of it as he needed the money. So up he stood and called Pedro alongside him as he walked to the mysterious opportunity.


Keith arrived at the location and pushed the cold blue door open, the paint chipping under his nails. Pedro followed.  Immediately after he put one foot through the door his arm was seized by a strong chubby hand, darkness followed. ***When Keith awoke he found himself in a dimly lit room. A gruff voice was his welcome.  “You have one option my friend. You must sign this contract, without reading it, and you leave with your life. If you don’t sign this contract we kill the dog. And then you.” Pedro whimpers as a result of some abuse. “Ok. Just don’t hurt Pedro.” Keith responds.The shady man chuckles. “There now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”A wad of paper slid over to Keith’s feet. He picks it up, along with the pen. He signs the contract and Pedro is thrown at him. “LEAVE.” The gruff voice bellows. And without hesitation Keith gets up, clutches Pedro and runs out of the building. He stares at the blue door for a moment. As he turns to walk away he catches sight of the police in the corner of his eye. “STOP! NOW! YOU ARE UNDER ARREST.”By instinct, Keith ran. He had signed a contract he wasn’t allowed to read and now he was under arrest.  So here he was…Sweating…Panting…Running from the police…

 

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