He was an agent of the opposition.
She frowned at Perce running to meet him in the secluded grove behind the camp. He should not be here. Perce should not be meeting with him. So why is this happening?
She snapped her phone shut and looked at Wes, annoyed. “Yes?”
“You have an appointment.”
“I’m aware. I was in the middle of a call.”
“You were supposed to be there 20 minutes ago.”
Evangeline sighed and lifted her eyes to the sky.
He was my version of My-Secret-Agent-Lover Man. Like from the Francesca Lia Block books with Weeztie Bat that I read when I was in my teens. Of course, his name was Leonard and he was an accountant, but other than that he was exactly what I was looking for. My-Secret-Agent-Lover Man is a silly name anyway.
The man stared at the one standing over him. He could tell that he was an agent for some three letter organization. He had been followed since he left St Louis, he knew why too. The death he left in his wake was enough to get the attention of the feds. He had really outdone himself this time.
It is a degree of patience, that if not entirely a virtue, becomes a certain aspect of an agent in the metabolic vision of the effort to be precisely who is who.
Agent Samuel Yung stepped into the room, hands casually resting in the pockets of his tailored blue-and-white pinstripe slacks. His matching vest and rolled up, white shirt sleeves cultivated a look of importance, without drawing the eye too much. His shoes were freshly buffed, catching the light from the big bay windows, and his black hair was brushed back from his eyes in a I-just-woke-up-like-this, practiced style.
Agent is a word that is used to describe a person that acts on someone else’s behalf. They are suppose to work for the person to the best of their abilities. But sometimes agents can have conflicting incentives and might try to abuse their position by undert
This guy with the username of Agent was harassing me just earlier. I wonder if he knows how much he contributed to my ultimate upcoming fate. Oh well. I guess it doesn’t really matter, does it? Kinda weird how the word for today was ‘agent’ though. It’s like a perfect storm of shitty day.
We were never afraid of the dark as children I think; something about it comforted you, and I was too proud to be afraid of something you weren’t.
It was strange though, because even as I thought myself brave, I would still stick a leg out from the covers, thinking if a monster were to grab me maybe it would be satisfied with my foot and spare the rest of me.
And so, in the middle of night I would test my worth – crawl out of bed for a glass of water, a cookie from the jar away from the accusing eyes of mom – and you would be right there with me, as a good younger sibling should, drinking out of my class and stealing tons of chocolate chips.
Now, I pretend to be brave. With the loss of childhood came the loss of courage, or at least the loss of any innocence.
I still think back to those times, the memories faint with aging but the general feeling still there. Unlike you little brother I am always afraid, but at least now I bury all of me under my thick blankets, bedsheets. Monsters would hardly stop with my right foot, so I might as well pretend they wouldn’t come for me at all.
Woher kam dieser Agent denn schon wieder? Konnte man nicht mal mehr in eine Bank einbrechen ohne von irgendeinem Agent verfolgt zu werden? Aber gut. Dann halt noch ein kleines Training zum Fit werden, wenn es bald ans richtige Rauben ging.
“Can you pull the rising agent out from the cabinet above you?” Chase pointed to the door on top of my head. Nodding, I reached up and grabbed only to turn around and get pelted in the face with a handful of flour.
“Oh my gosh!” I gasped and I could hear his uncontrollable laughter. Scraping the flour from my eyes, I grabbed my own fistful of flour and aimed for his face. My own giggles left me after seeing the look on his face.
“Oh no you did not do that!” He spoke dangerously and I spun around to run only to be grabbed by the waist and pulled flush against him. Chase leaned in and I was almost sure he was about to kiss me. Then I felt a cold gooey substance dripping down my face from my hair. I squealed as he watched a yellow egg yolk slide down my nose.
Laughing, I wiped the yolk and smeared it on his cheek as his stared down at me with adoration and amusement.
The secret agent flew into London. He was on a mission to find the worst criminal that had been known in years. This criminal was on a mission of his own – to destroy the world! Who would manage to complete his mission first?
She was a super special secret agent on a special secret mission. With her trusty, handy gun, she made mincemeat of everyone. She broke through every single code and hacked computers. Did you know she also stayed in Europe, too, under the name Virginia Blue?
He was an agent of the opposition.
She frowned at Perce running to meet him in the secluded grove behind the camp. He should not be here. Perce should not be meeting with him. So why is this happening?
She snapped her phone shut and looked at Wes, annoyed. “Yes?”
“You have an appointment.”
“I’m aware. I was in the middle of a call.”
“You were supposed to be there 20 minutes ago.”
Evangeline sighed and lifted her eyes to the sky.
He was my version of My-Secret-Agent-Lover Man. Like from the Francesca Lia Block books with Weeztie Bat that I read when I was in my teens. Of course, his name was Leonard and he was an accountant, but other than that he was exactly what I was looking for. My-Secret-Agent-Lover Man is a silly name anyway.
The man stared at the one standing over him. He could tell that he was an agent for some three letter organization. He had been followed since he left St Louis, he knew why too. The death he left in his wake was enough to get the attention of the feds. He had really outdone himself this time.
something cool, lonely, spy, never give up, secret, drama, not real, i dont to be, seems invisible, n
It is a degree of patience, that if not entirely a virtue, becomes a certain aspect of an agent in the metabolic vision of the effort to be precisely who is who.
Agent Samuel Yung stepped into the room, hands casually resting in the pockets of his tailored blue-and-white pinstripe slacks. His matching vest and rolled up, white shirt sleeves cultivated a look of importance, without drawing the eye too much. His shoes were freshly buffed, catching the light from the big bay windows, and his black hair was brushed back from his eyes in a I-just-woke-up-like-this, practiced style.
Agent is a word that is used to describe a person that acts on someone else’s behalf. They are suppose to work for the person to the best of their abilities. But sometimes agents can have conflicting incentives and might try to abuse their position by undert
This guy with the username of Agent was harassing me just earlier. I wonder if he knows how much he contributed to my ultimate upcoming fate. Oh well. I guess it doesn’t really matter, does it? Kinda weird how the word for today was ‘agent’ though. It’s like a perfect storm of shitty day.
We were never afraid of the dark as children I think; something about it comforted you, and I was too proud to be afraid of something you weren’t.
It was strange though, because even as I thought myself brave, I would still stick a leg out from the covers, thinking if a monster were to grab me maybe it would be satisfied with my foot and spare the rest of me.
And so, in the middle of night I would test my worth – crawl out of bed for a glass of water, a cookie from the jar away from the accusing eyes of mom – and you would be right there with me, as a good younger sibling should, drinking out of my class and stealing tons of chocolate chips.
Now, I pretend to be brave. With the loss of childhood came the loss of courage, or at least the loss of any innocence.
I still think back to those times, the memories faint with aging but the general feeling still there. Unlike you little brother I am always afraid, but at least now I bury all of me under my thick blankets, bedsheets. Monsters would hardly stop with my right foot, so I might as well pretend they wouldn’t come for me at all.
Woher kam dieser Agent denn schon wieder? Konnte man nicht mal mehr in eine Bank einbrechen ohne von irgendeinem Agent verfolgt zu werden? Aber gut. Dann halt noch ein kleines Training zum Fit werden, wenn es bald ans richtige Rauben ging.
“Can you pull the rising agent out from the cabinet above you?” Chase pointed to the door on top of my head. Nodding, I reached up and grabbed only to turn around and get pelted in the face with a handful of flour.
“Oh my gosh!” I gasped and I could hear his uncontrollable laughter. Scraping the flour from my eyes, I grabbed my own fistful of flour and aimed for his face. My own giggles left me after seeing the look on his face.
“Oh no you did not do that!” He spoke dangerously and I spun around to run only to be grabbed by the waist and pulled flush against him. Chase leaned in and I was almost sure he was about to kiss me. Then I felt a cold gooey substance dripping down my face from my hair. I squealed as he watched a yellow egg yolk slide down my nose.
Laughing, I wiped the yolk and smeared it on his cheek as his stared down at me with adoration and amusement.
The secret agent flew into London. He was on a mission to find the worst criminal that had been known in years. This criminal was on a mission of his own – to destroy the world! Who would manage to complete his mission first?
She was a super special secret agent on a special secret mission. With her trusty, handy gun, she made mincemeat of everyone. She broke through every single code and hacked computers. Did you know she also stayed in Europe, too, under the name Virginia Blue?