Short Story – Stella’s Dream Job


Stella have always been a great fan of thriller or suspense movies. As a kid, she always enacted those scenes where she would be a detective, solving some cryptic message, or following the Crime suspect or resolving some murder mystery. Her dream job was to be a CIA Agent, or some laid back private detective. Though what she was doing was being a cashier at a general store named Danville’s Cart. She hated her job, when her friends moved on with their further studies, she was stuck scanning bar codes, counting cash, swiping cards. She is a very happy and cheerful girl, but at this store she was always grumpy. She has already been ousted from 3 different jobs in a year. She always be in some whimsical world of her own. She is more interested in the mysteries, like according to her the old lady walking stick has diamonds, she is smuggling,  and no one but Stella can catch her. The fat lady and her skinny husband, they aren’t really couples, they are pretending to be one, to disguise, and they smuggle drugs in Cereal packs. For a 21 year old, her imaginations were fictitious, but it’s Stella, not an ordinary girl, she smells crime.

She was amidst her fantasy, when hubbub  spread over the store. She couldn’t really understand at first, but she saw a man running out of the story with a knife and some bag. Without a second thought she paced toward him, and while she was running she asked a fella “What’s the tumult about?”
“Her stole her purse, and injured her arm with knife”
“Call 911..” and she was off behind that theif. That theif ran off in his car, and she stopped a cab, commanded the driver “Follow that Car” (Oh that sounds so tantalising)
She was on the edge of her seat, and she had this wide smile on her face. She had never been so excited, it was her dream come true. She felt like a Cop, and she wanted to try her practiced karate moves on this theif.
She bribed the driver to speed up the cab, and he did. The universe was with her in fulfilling her dreams. It was her day. (I’ll refer to the theif as suspect) That’s what Stella mentally told herself. The suspect reached the end of the lane, and tried getting inside some frail building that probably is empty. Stella was scared but determined. It was her time to shine, to prove herself that she can accomplish her dreams. She handed the driver some extra cash, got down and rushed towards the building. She didn’t know where he went, and she tried to sense him. She was cautious but she was confident that she can handle the situation. She has watched plenty of thriller movies in English, Japanese,  French. She calmed herself down and breathed in to hear the voices. She heard some footsteps on the floor above. She carefully climbed the staircase to not make any sound. She heard some loud breathing and she knew, she can tackle this. She reached that empty floor, and he was there at the far end, pointing knife in her direction. He is a clumsy guy, with skinny body, messy hair, stubble on his jaw, sweaty forehead, and loud breathing. She casually and bravely walked closer to him.
“Lady! Closer you get to me, closer you are to death”
“Alright! I am not afraid”
“Don’t come closer or..or..I may kill you”
“Kill me I say”
He was now quivering. She was at a distance of 3 metres from him when she swirled around twice and in a nanosecond her foot was on his jaw, and the kick was so hard, that his mouth started bleeding a bit. He was on the floor by the jolt of her kick. His knife slided to a distance of 10 metres from him, and he struggled getting up when she kicked him on his nose with her knee. He dropped unconscious. She proudly picked the old lady’s purse, called 911 to inform them of the incidence. She was a hero now, and yes! this led to her admission in the New York Police department.

P.S. Life is too short to fear about failure, live your dreams, you would love your life more.

Hand-in-hand Chapter 1

My First stroll on the streets of Paris

Image   Yes, he was there, right in front of my eyes all the while, and how dumb I have been, that I couldn’t see. While we are still standing on the bridge that he earlier mentioned it as Île de la Cité that leads to Notre-Dame which looks like a small island in itself, and he is still talking and explaining things about the History of Notre-Dame. He is a history aficionado and I could not hear a word, but I am tranquillized by the glittering of his eyes. He has the same exuberance in his eyes that I see in my brother’s eyes while he talks about Cricket. I am lost in the mellow of his voice, as if Mariah Carey is singing “Without You” in my ears, like Kenny G is playing “The Moment” with his saxophone. I feel like my legs have turned Jelly, and how I long to close my eyes and melt slowly in his arms like chocolate. I am lost in his Adam’s apple while he is still talking about Notre-Dames history, it so delicately moves up and down that I feel my eyeballs are bouncing up and down with it. When he points his finger towards the cathedral saying something, I get to see the back of his head and yes, there is something more beautiful to my eyes than the cathedral. While he has his back to me, I get a moment to study him, the perfect boy, he has this auburn hair that has few streaks of lighter shades to the ends, more out of natural coloring from being in sun. I could only think of what it would feel like if I scroll my fingers in them. As I move my eyes down slowly taking advantage of the moment, I realize he has these broad shoulders that has a slope from his neck to the acromion (if that’s what it is called), and he is totally callipygian. I savor the view and I get this sudden urge to touch him, feel his hair on my fingertips (I am sure they are as soft as they look) and I being ebullient with this new feeling and also since a week I had been trying to use French words in my sentences I have this falsetto in my head that says “tout de suite” and suddenly he turns to me and my thoughts come to an abrupt halt. I feel the burning of my cheeks and they turn crimson. I could see the amusement in his eyes for he has just caught me checking him out. He asks me “What?” and I don’t know if it’s a question related to the history of Notre-Dame he must have asked (that I didn’t paid attention to) or is it about the fact that I was checking him out. I started offering him my profuse apologies for not hearing him, while he had been kind enough to spend his weekend giving me a tour of Paris that I couldn’t see since I came here 2 weeks back. I had my weekdays spent in office, weeknights in my dormitory hearing the noises of neighboring rooms, and staring the ceiling till i fall asleep. Well last weekend was the same, I redesigned my blog website, emailed some of my friends, that’s it. It was when Eugène thumped on my door and forced me to come with him to see Paris. He is half French and half American. He waves his hand in air as to stop with my apologies, and I stand there blank with my pursed lips. Eugène says I said “tout de suite” and I realized I was blabbering my thoughts, and a sudden dark cloud appears on my head, as to what else did I say. I ask him as innocently as I could “What else did I say?”, and he smirked, saying “Nothing I wish you had”, and darn, what did he mean by ‘Nothing I wish you had?’, is he teasing me. I feel the blood draining from my face, when he says, “Heyyyy, Amelie you said nothing, what’s wrong? Why are you so pale? I was just yanking your chain.” and I now realize I have been holding my breath, and I exhale a big breathe, and I could only say is “Nothing”. He then shrugs like ‘Let’s just go and see the Notre-Dame’, and held out his hand for me, I hold it and we walk towards the cathedral. (Oh yes this place is magical, my first wish just came true, I touched him). We walked till we reached the place and my God, it is beautiful. The long columns, the beautiful carvings, surrounded by water under clear blue sky, such an eye savoring place, like I am in some palace, and I am the Princess in some long exquisite gown (though I am wearing jeans, tee and belle shoes) walking hand-in hand with my Prince Charming.   It’s the day I realized, there has to be some reason, I had to come to Paris for work at client-site.