None So Blind -
05-09-2013, 08:48 PM
Mikayla Winslow packed the last of her clothes and other belongings, taking care not to wake her boyfriend--or rather, her ex-boyfriend--sleeping nearby. It was four AM, and she hadn't slept a wink all night, not after finally realizing that the man to whom she had pledged eternal love and devotion was a player and she had been just another filly in his stable of conquests.
Leron had been charming in the beginning, just like all the others, but once again the old pattern of infidelity had repeated itself. At least he wasn't insanely jealous like Darnell, who went ballistic whenever she so much as looked in the general direction towards another man but had played the field with reckless abandon himself. It took a restraining order to keep him away from her, but in the end he moved on to greener pastures, all but forgetting their eight-month relationship.
Leron, however, held the record for tenure: a year and a quarter. Mikki really, honestly, and truly believed that he was The One for her, the cycle of going out with cheaters finally broken and she would be happy at last. In the end, however, the truth was revealed--she had caught him with his pants down in more ways than one with some stripper from a local club in a back alley where she had seen them being more than a little intimate with each other. That happened the previous night, and Mikki said nothing about it, but had made up her mind to leave him right then and there, sparing herself his lies and excuses. Now, as she closed the lid of her suitcase, she began to make plans for her future. She had only one last semester to go before getting her Associates Degree, and she had already put in her resumes with various law firms around the country. She could stay with her sister until graduation, or at least until she found a position, and then she could finally get a place of her own. She had a little money saved up for at least a deposit on a small apartment in North Las Vegas or wherever Fate sent her. One thing was for certain: she was not going to be a victim anymore. No more hooking up with cheating, lying men. From now on, Mikayla Charlotte Winslow was her own woman.
Strengthened with this resolve, Mikki picked up her suitcase and her purse and slipped out of the bedroom. When she reached the living room, she took out a sheet of white legal paper, folded into thirds with Leron's name written on it, and set it on the sofa arm, along with the housekey Leron had given her when she moved in with him. There, she thought. She had severed all ties with Lying Leron for good and always. She opened the front door and walked out of the house she had called home for over a year for the last time, and into her life.
The small Hewlett-Packard Photosmart copier diligently and tirelessly churned out flyer after flyer as it sat on Reed deBlanc's desk. Reed picked up the latest batch and proofread them. No smears, no jumbled lines, just a pure professional finish; even the red and white sword and swastika emblem of the Aryan Church of America came out beautifully. Reed smiled, satisfied over the machine's performance. It beat hell out of the old Xerox machine they used before, that giant behemoth which took up a quarter of the room space and kept jamming up whenever they printed more than four or five copies. This more compact job made only nine copies at a time, but it not only performed more efficiently, but also made color copies and scanned photos into the computer. A hundred dollars well spent, thought Reed.
Reed took another sip of coffee. He had been working all night producing flyers announcing the ACA's demonstration in Sunset Park this coming Saturday, but if it kept Barack Obama out of the White House, it would be worth it. He and his fellow Aryans swore an oath to Almighty God upon the Bible and the American flag that a black man would never set foot in the Oval Office, and took upon themselves the sacred and civic duty to warn Mr. and Mrs. White America away from voting for him. The demonstration would show the country once and for all the perils it faced if Obama was elected.
Reed deBlanc was the official secretary for his branch of the ACA, elected for his superb command of the English language, his writing skills and his almost photographic memory. It was he who logged the minutes for every meeting, drafted the memoranda, produced the monthly newsletter on the Web, and printed out the flyers for the church's demonstrations as he was doing that night. Gary Wimple, the leader and "minister" to the church, had nothing but praise for deBlanc.
"Swear to God, Reed," Wimple would say whenever he delivered the goods, "this church would come to a screeching halt if not for you."
Reed tried not to let such accolades go to his head. Like the rest of the church, he was on a mission, and that mission was bigger than he was. Yet he could not help being a little proud of himself and his accomplishements. He was good at what he did, and if what he did helped the mission, then so be it, he did his part.
The copier stopped rolling out flyers. Reed looked at the small control panel and noted that it was out of toner. Already? he thought. He looked at the stack of flyers already printed and ready to go. There had to be at least a hundred of them, he figured. Yeah, that should be more than enough. Besides, he didn't have another cartridge of toner to spare, which meant another trip to the office supply store come daybreak. Better get some more paper while he was at it. He could expense it on the church's account.
He turned off the little copier machine on the desk and gave it an affectionate pat on its cover. "Good job, little buddy," he said. Then he switched off the lights, locked the office door behind him, and headed for home, tired but satisfied over a job well done.
Last edited by Veritas; 05-09-2013 at 08:55 PM.