Sealed: A Short-Short Story

Walking down streets of gum-melted sidewalks, the August heat beading sweat on foreheads and in underarms. He was quiet man, his blazer buttoned tight to conceal an envelope containing the information he gathered while working in Bolivia, his back going straight and his shoulders up every time a passerby said "good morning". He could not trust anyone, they could not discover too much about him, nor could he not give away too much about himself either.

He lived in a world of secrets. His job in foreign espionage was a secret. His nameless government employers that "technically don't exist" were a secret. His level X clearance, higher than the Vice President's was a secret. His address of 154 Brooks Street, Callowmine, New Jersey? Secret. That he would meet co-agents at Ginny's Cafe two blocks from his house? Secret. That he would spend hours and days and weeks away from home pretending to be people he's not in life threatening places? Secret.

Trying your best to exist when you barely have proof, was nearly impossible. He looked around himself, the streets filled with people going places, living their normal lives enjoying their normal worlds. In comparison he was a god amongst men, a shell of a man pieced together by the souls of a thousand men, as many as he saw before him, but it was all a secret.

Secrets, secrets, secrets, one after the other. To have to grip the fact you have killed people for a payroll and your wife believes you would not hurt a fly. To be constantly reminded that your kids cannot answer their teacher when asked their father's occupation which is controlling . To forever watch your words and hold your tongue when asked simple questions. His name Richard Feldman Boyer nicknamed "Rick" is a secret. His age of thirty-five is a secret. His light brown hair, bluish grey eyes, and sharp edged jawline is a secret. His lips always sealed like the documents in his bag about illegal currency trade and Russian assets and moles. The rest will never know, the rest will never know. So many secrets in his mind, their contents only to ever be existent to him.

At least that's what he thinks.