The Red Agenda
January 7th, 4:13 a.m. “What was she saying?” Stumbling and mumbling in the dark, he searched for the door in vain, trying to locate the voice he heard minutes ago. Funny that he couldn’t find it. He tasted the black smoke of air on his tongue again and finally, his hands found the cold, metal knob. He threw the door open and light reflected on his face, sparkling in his squinting light-brown eyes. He stopped as if surprised by the block of an unexpected arm. He laughed, giving up. The...






