This exercise involved the writing of a short story, one page in total,
showing two characters with the following attributes. All of the
characteristics to be included in the story.
One character is:
• Female
• Aged between 18 and 85
• Well educated
• Good looks
• Confident or Nervous (this must be the direct opposite of the other character)
• Facing extreme danger in unusual circumstances
The other character is
• Male
• Aged between 18 and 85
• Little education
• Rugged looks
• Confident or Nervous (this must be the direct opposite of the other character)
• Facing extreme danger in unusual circumstances
Michelle by
F N Karmatz
Hello Michelle. Stay on line with me. Act normal. Do everything
around your jewelry shop you usually do. Keep your cell phone
under your collar and keep talking to me. And you can hear me
clearly? Fine. .Do you have the envelope in the register—good.
Yes, I know it’s a lot of money. They probably saw your
electronic bank statement and knew how much you had in your
savings account. Yes, I know you’re frightened—just stay cool.
We’re ready for whatever happens. Did you check to make sure the
back entry is locked? Good. Yes...
Most email threats are hoaxes or pretty amateurish. Fishing
expeditions. But we know this one isn’t. Too much detail about
you. Yes, cyber extortion is a growing problem. More cases this
year. How did they get on to you and your kids? Not too hard, if
your kids use the Internet.. Do they use Messenger or Facebook? Do
they make new contacts via the Internet? Do they chat with one
another? Thought so. That’s all these hackers need to get your
email address. They’ve got little programs that lets them track
your messages to your home computer. If they see your IP address,
they can track you to your house address. It’s as easy as
looking you up in the phone book.
How did they know what school your kids attend? If your kids
use the Internet at school for research and the like and they’re
still using their own G-mail or Hot Mail account, the server at
the school is easy to ID. This outfit was smart enough to scan
your local school’s network.
Like I said to you earlier, your first customer will be Kylie.
She’s one of us. She’ll ask for a perm.
Yes, it’s a scary situation. Just be patient and keep talking
with me, Michelle. It’s only 8:30. How long have you been
selling jewellry , Michelle?
Seven years, that’s quite a while. Keeps you busy, huh? Yeah,
I must say it looks like you’ve done very well, considering that
your now being cyber-stalked. It’s not just a matter of your not
using a credit card and that you do a cash business, you still
have your bank card and get an e-statement. Or you get those
e-savers from Woolies or Coles. When you registered with them, you
gave them your home address. These perps could have gotten it that
way, too. Yes, I know your frightened, but try to talk naturally.
They want you to be scared. Intimidation is a device they use.
Someone maybe big and burly usually drops by.
You say someone looks like they are coming in. A woman? Maybe,
it’s Kylie. Just act normal. I can hear everything that is going
on.. No, those aren’t the right words. That doesn’t sound
right. She should have asked for a perm.
Michelle?, Michelle? Are you there?
Laura by
F N Karmatz
Laura had her new Hyundai Elantra only one day and was enjoying
trying out all its new features—electric windows, auto
door-locks, mobile phone speaker jack, and GPS. The aircon was on
and the FM was turned on just enough so that all four speakers
surrounded her with soft rock. The jack was plugged in so she
could call and talk with her best friends remotely without
breaking the law. She had just come off the freeway, pleased the
little car’s acceleration. The brakes only needed a slight touch
to slow her down. She thought she’d take the Logan Road exit and
drive down past Garden City, just to see how the vehicle handled
in traffic. But at this time, late in the morning, there were few
cars traveling in her direction.
She continued down Logan Road in the middle lane, not exceeding
the 60 km speed limit, but stopping at a couple of traffic lights
along the way. Time enough at each traffic light to run her brush
through her shoulder length hair and glance at her lipstick in the
vanity mirror on the back of the sunshield. She held on to the
brush as she grasped the steering wheel with two fingers.
Finger-tip power steering, of course. Virtually no traffic in her
direction. Only a motorbike coming up behind her as she slowed
down for the next light, which had just turned red. She lost sight
of the biker..
The next thing she saw was a black-jacketed biker along side
her door. An arm with a crowbar came from nowhere and shattered
her window, showering glass all over her and the seat. She hardly
got out a scream. The crowbar struck again, knocking out most of
the window shards and ended up against her throat. The craggy
voice of the biker growled at her. ‘Gimme your wallet and shut
up!’ He stuck his head in the window to make sure she was
following his order. She couldn’t look down, but felt for her
wallet which was in the well of the arm-rest between the front
seats. She was feeling for it, when she felt the recessed
emergency air bag button. Her thumb punched it hard.
It exploded, instantly pinning her to the back of the seat. It
also pinned the biker’s head against the car’s roof, the arm
holding the crowbar wedged awkwardly against the broken window.
Blood trickled over the sill and down on to the velvety
upholstery.
With her free hand, Laura pulled the shift lever into drive,
her foot finding and hitting the accelerator. The car leaped
forward, yanking the biker off his motorbike seat. A few passing
vehicles, not realising or ignoring the situation, just honked and
drove on.
The air bag blocked her vision. She could see nothing in front
of her. But she could see out the side windows.. She turned the
wheel toward the curb coasting along, the legs of the biker
bouncing along the concrete. She approached the curb. Yes, she
figured, the curb was just high enough to pinion his legs against
the concrete, painfully she hoped. When she thought he was
secured, she pulled up her hand brake with her free hand. Both
were still wedged by the air bag. She could hardly breathe. The
biker gurgled out a rasping sound from his throat.
With her free hand, she fumbled for her wallet. Under it was
her mobile. Her fingers grasped it. She felt for the keypad and
tapped out—121, Emergency. She acted quite calmly talking with
the operator. Now it was just a matter of time. But what really
irritated her was that nong, that dickhead had dripped blood all
over her upholstery.
