The Case

A small boy spent about three hours going through the different airport terminals. He had a backpack equipped and tried a hefty amount of chocolate from the international shops. Then he read magazines. He watched the planes take off and land in the distance behind the wide clear glass panes. 

“Is that boy by himself,” Angela, a shop clerk from a from a newsstand, asked.

“It happens,” Carl, a janitor, said. “If they show a ticket, they’re good.”

“Carl, my son has the attention span of a gnat. That boy could’ve missed his flight hours ago.” 

“When do you expect him to learn,” Carl asked. “Serious question. Because his parents or guardian took him here. I guarantee you he’s fine.” 

“We have to protect the kids, Carl. What if a stranger tries to take advantage of him?”

“What if a stranger takes advantage of you? Or me?” Angela turned to him and gave him a look. “What,” Carl asked.

“I’m not talking to you right now, Carl,” Angela said, rolling his eyes. 

“Ten bucks says he’s fine when I ask him,” Carl said, watching the boy carefully. 

“I will not engage in betting activities,” Angela said, slapping Carl on the shoulder. “You better go ask him.”

“Fine,” he replied, shaking his head. 

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The Benefactor: Part 1

“Hey,” Shane said absentmindedly. He wasn’t paying attention to his wife Mara as she shuffled into their apartment. She saw her husband on the couch watching the television in the dark. She noticed Shane didn’t even bother to turn around to see her. She carelessly waved her hand in the direction where he sat. She was certain he had a long day and whatever he was watching on television must have been more important than she was. 

She threw her bag on the floor and sat alone in the dark kitchen. Her conscious had been weighing on her for the last several months. Her husband knew she needed to work overtime to support her parents’ ailing health. She didn’t even want to think of the last doctor’s appointment and his realistic prognosis. 

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Picked

“So, what happens after you get picked,” the shiny 27th android machine said in the white room to the other identical looking android.

“I do not know,” the 59th android responded. “That is a good question.”

“Number 52, step forward,” a disembodied, tired voice spoke into the empty well lit room where the androids stood and sat as if in a waiting room. 

“Well, I have been picked,” 52 said in a joyous, yes still flat tone. 

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