A week after I started working at the Perion Field One, Clive came to the prison to see me. “How do you like your job so far?” he asked.
“I like it better than being your assistant,” I said, glancing at his dark suit that matched his shiny dark hair.
With a cold smirk, he took a pack of cigarette from his coat pocket, lit one, took a deep inhale, and gazed at me through the smoke. “You haven’t changed one bit.”
“Unless you accept my demands, I will stay here.”
He scoffed. “Our leader told me to teach you a lesson to be a loyal servant.”
“So, what are you going to do with me?”
“I could throw you into a torture chamber but I am too nice to do that. I don’t want to waste your quality, so…” he paused.
I waited for his next word, curious.
“You are not good enough to be my assistant. So, I recommend you to be a common security guard,” he said condescendingly.
“I can live with that. Where will I be working?”
“Let’s go,” he said, walking toward his vehicle.
(from THE SPACE HERMITS)