Always believe the best. For contest
|Roberta squinted at the rain soaked street she had just trudged through; stopping at every store, asking for work. Twenty six but looking a decade younger, she had been turned down at each timid request.
Sheltering in the open doorway of a burger bar, delicious smells wafted out. A grumbling stomach reminded her that she hadn’t eaten since yesterday, the last of her money gone. Clutching her lucky Angel stone in shaking hands, she silently pleaded, please help me again.
Last building on the high street was the old drama theatre. Blinking, she adjusted to the gloomy interior. Cracked black and white floor tiles, flecked golden paint, high ceilings with antique cornices all signified an era long past .
Roberta jumped as an elderly woman appeared from a hidden door to her left. Dressed in purple, gnarled knuckles clutched a carved stick. She looked annoyed.
“Hi, I’m looking for work.”
Scrutinising Roberta with a piercing, knowing look, several seconds passed before the old lady responded . “You’ve come at the right time. I need someone to do a little job for me.”
Roberta smiled, maybe her Angel stone would deliver again.
“Follow me.” She shuffled ahead to a room filled with drama props. Stopping in front of a large chest, the old lady tapped it.
“Open it,” she commanded.
Roberta hesitated. What if this was a trick. What if the old woman pushed her into the chest, sold her to the slave trade?
Shakily sliding the bolt, she slowly raised the creaking lid. Roberta laughed in disbelief at what lay inside.
Later, she was hauled by a rope, fifty feet into the air, outside the drama theatre. Roberta flapped her beautiful sparkly angel wings, almost tasting the burgers she would devour when her job was done.