Courtyard Protocol: The Last Pickup – Part 4
The last one doesn’t rush. Doesn’t cry.Just stares at the house like it owes her something.“You ever...
The last one doesn’t rush. Doesn’t cry.Just stares at the house like it owes her something.“You ever...
By now, they blur together—perfume, heels, half-smiles.One asks if you ever get tired of being invisible.You say,...
Tonight’s guest leaves before the candles die.She doesn’t look back, just mutters, “Same speech, same ending.”You offer...
The courtyard glows in marble and money.You stand by the gate, shadow on polished stone.Every morning, another...
Late sun paints gold on the waves.Ahead—one massive yacht, banners snapping wild.Not one cougar flag, but dozens,...
By noon, more flags appear across the horizon.Red silk, sequins, even one stitched in velvet.Another inspection, another...
The captain appears—cap tilted.She winks, “Right foot first, officer.”She salutes, then toasts you with champagne.Flag etiquette? Technically...
Morning calm, sun sharp on the water.You trim the sails, scanning for paperwork violators.A flick of color...
Your Velmora coverage is nearly complete.The mayor gives your next assignment.“Cut the stipends. This district votes wrong.”You...
You report your recent spending to the mayor.He’s pleased — efficient, clean, generous.Velmora Heights is top donor...
As you interview more, a trend appears.They don’t talk. They don’t beg.They just show you what you...
The city launched a support fund for single moms.You’re assigned to the upscale district.They all know you’re...