Mr Craig Monologue
“I don’t trust her,” I spoke in a hushed tone, meticulously eying the woman.
“And why do you say that Mr Craig?” The pretty lady next to me responded with a dismissive, almost contemptuous tone. I could feel a scornful smile surface on her face without having to look for confirmation.
“She’s a bloody communist that’s why!” I said gruffly. There was an irritating ruffle that diverted my attention and so I turned to look.
“Where do you think you’re going with that Ms?” I snapped at the pretty lady who was preparing to plunge a needle into me. I don’t think she heard me because she started lifting the hem of my shirt. I gripped her wrist almost aggressively and she gasped, wide eyed. I was surprised at my strength that the years had not quite …show more content…
I wasn’t 62 anymore. I was my youthful, charming self, in my late 20’s. It was a wet night. I was in a pub, which I vividly remember smelling of urine, spew and cheap liquor. The memory came in fragments; Stale beer served in Martini glass, prostitutes in shabby outfits, and the overwhelming exhaust of cigarettes that fogged up your glasses. I had been going through the same file hoping to spot a missed lead. After hours of no luck, I put on my Fedora, got into my coat and decided to call it a night. I remember walking home through the narrow, desolate alley, thinking of her. Angela.
I had a vague awareness that we had once shared a relationship of some sort.
I also knew that she was dead...Because of me. Because of who I am, or rather who I was. A bloody Spy in the world of Espionage. A ‘necessary monster’, they would say.
The needle’s sting faded, and so with it the painful memory.
“All done,” the pretty lady beamed, a little too enthusiastically.
“What did you say your name was Ms?” I asked, dazed at the odd familiarity of her features.
“I am your nurse, Theresa sir,” she replied courteously.
I must have wore a puzzled look because the next moment, the skin around her eyes creased and her hand muffled the laughter that followed.
“What is it that you find amusing Ms?” I demanded, offended by her unnecessary
“And why do you say that Mr Craig?” The pretty lady next to me responded with a dismissive, almost contemptuous tone. I could feel a scornful smile surface on her face without having to look for confirmation.
“She’s a bloody communist that’s why!” I said gruffly. There was an irritating ruffle that diverted my attention and so I turned to look.
“Where do you think you’re going with that Ms?” I snapped at the pretty lady who was preparing to plunge a needle into me. I don’t think she heard me because she started lifting the hem of my shirt. I gripped her wrist almost aggressively and she gasped, wide eyed. I was surprised at my strength that the years had not quite …show more content…
I wasn’t 62 anymore. I was my youthful, charming self, in my late 20’s. It was a wet night. I was in a pub, which I vividly remember smelling of urine, spew and cheap liquor. The memory came in fragments; Stale beer served in Martini glass, prostitutes in shabby outfits, and the overwhelming exhaust of cigarettes that fogged up your glasses. I had been going through the same file hoping to spot a missed lead. After hours of no luck, I put on my Fedora, got into my coat and decided to call it a night. I remember walking home through the narrow, desolate alley, thinking of her. Angela.
I had a vague awareness that we had once shared a relationship of some sort.
I also knew that she was dead...Because of me. Because of who I am, or rather who I was. A bloody Spy in the world of Espionage. A ‘necessary monster’, they would say.
The needle’s sting faded, and so with it the painful memory.
“All done,” the pretty lady beamed, a little too enthusiastically.
“What did you say your name was Ms?” I asked, dazed at the odd familiarity of her features.
“I am your nurse, Theresa sir,” she replied courteously.
I must have wore a puzzled look because the next moment, the skin around her eyes creased and her hand muffled the laughter that followed.
“What is it that you find amusing Ms?” I demanded, offended by her unnecessary