Paris By Night
The scene was set for a dramatic night, as the moonlight beamed down on the capital of France the stars twinkled and danced cheerfully.
She walked with those iron-heeled shoes and scarlet red overcoat. Oblivious of what the next few minuets had in store for her... her destiny. She approached a dirty and severely run down alley-way where she heard a death defying screech from beneath her, realizing that it was just a scruffy black ally cat she grinned and regained her calmness. The woman had gold shinny earrings that seemed to clash with her blood red coat, her hair was brown and positioned upright, her faced also seemed to be covered in a pale blusher, which made her face look a dead color.
On her continued journey she walked at quite a pace through the winding brick ally-ways, as she walked passed the top pier over the river Sane, she walked unknowingly into a familiar face, a face which made even her stomach churn, she shivered in an eerie fashion. The face brought back memories. The face was of a man, the man was wearing a long and protracted brown coat, which had a distinctive smell of brandy and other alcoholic beverages, and he wore no jewellery and had a femine face. The woman unheeding and unconscious that the next few moves she will make would become national news overnight.
Three days previously...
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The woman worked for an extremely powerful businessman, this mans name is Mr. J Mires, and he owned all of RJ Mires LTD The woman’s name was Clara Tempest, she was a high-class business Administrator working with her colleges in a crumbling IT Hardware Management company. The company was recovering from an allegation from a member of staff who claimed that the Hardware was not recommended, as it was not immune to the millennium bug. Because the year was 1999 anybody who was out looking for computers and other hardware products, they looked anywhere else but RJ Mires. RJ Mires had a written agreement with J’s Software who were the customers of their hardware but were forced to back because of this accusation.
This rainy Monday Clara seemed to be in a peevish and ill-humored mood; Clara was called up to the Bosses office on the 12th, floor the one from the top. Clara knew that Mr. Mires had employed her successor, a Mr. Paul Richardson, a young man with extra-ordinary qualifications exceeding Mrs. Tempests by far.
Clara was a keep fit fanatic so nine times out of ten she took the
Stairs rather than the lift. But today as her moral was down her keep fit raceme was abolished and she decided that taking the lift was the best option. Clara stood for a moment glancing at the brown discolored lift, the lifts wear and tear level was constantly rising, just by looking at the tired lift she couldn't have of anticipated what was going to happen to her in the next few minuets. She firmly pushed the chrome “lift UP” button to bring the lift from ground to her on the 6th floor. A cold silence hung in the air; it was suddenly broken by a loud bang that seemed to punch the closed doors of the lift. Clara didn't seem to be disturbed or uneasy from this anonymous noise. Clara looked above her head at the small green screen showing the lift being hoisted from the ground floor. When the lift actually did reach the designated floor the doors opened to reveal a small-enclosed box with a fish like smell. Clara took a deep breath and began walking into the lift until she completely separated herself from the real world. On entering the lift she now had a feeling that she shouldn't be there, but she was frozen to the spot and unable to move at all. Her whole body seemed to be welded rigid to the spot leaving her feeble and venerable. She was forced to wait for the primitive lift doors to totally enclose and trap her in. The rusty noise of the cogs began to draw the doors together, slowly, a man saw the doors begging to close, he ran frantically towards the lift and its victim inside, the man squeezed through the doors into the lift. As the two brown doors shut the man heaved at an alarming rate. He was wearing a navy blue suit and a Christmas style tie, he looked very professional with his black hair combed back with an excessive amount of gel, he had designer black swade shoes, his face was smooth and unblemished. He had brown eyes and a small moustache. The man looked at Clara kindly and said “hello, do you work here?” Clara looked at him in a callous way, trying to keep herself to herself until she left the lift. She replied “well...I used to” she looked to the ground and then at the screen. “Why, what happened?” The man said taking some interest in the woman’s misfortune, “you could say that some guy who I don’t even know has given me the sack” she looked into the mans eyes as she spoke.
