The Fiduciary Game by Hannah Hannan

He thinks he has me.

From the sun-roof, light cascades into the office and splinters off the snub of his silver gun.

Man’s knee-jerk reaction to violence is as clichéd as a chastising nun; all because I will not absolve his debt.

His ridge-top hat casts a half-moon shadow over his face.

Sitting behind my desk he looks like a giant, but aren’t giants exclusively toppled by mice.

Little does he know that in three seconds five men will surround him like a sickle round a hammer.

His attempted robbery will be over.

Behind him, the door to my office bursts open.

Five men flood inside and arrest him with rifles in hand.

I have won.

This fool, with half a shadow for a face, will be locked up before sun-fall today.

In surrender, he holds up his hands as if he is praying to God for help. But through the shadow, I see him smiling.

I’ve forgotten the power of a name.

Five rifles are pointing at me.

Perhaps I should have thought twice about lending money to ‘Billy the Kid’.

Hannah Hannan is a hardworking data-input clerk with aspirations of reaching the stars from her step ladder. Unfortunately, she’s a homo-sapien, therefore she relies on oxygen and there ain’t no much oxygen in space.