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lola-write-hand
"How can you expect me to hire you when you don't even have a passport?" The manager asked, pressing the file back to the pretty young blonde woman in a bob and peacoat with giant buttons. She beamed, ironically so that the manager only shook his bald head.
"Because I developed a theory with the Italian mathematician." She replied, pushing the file back towards him. "The same Italian mathematician who is on your boat."
The manager sat back in his chair. Behind him, was an entire wall of glass, that boasted the Sydney harbor. The Sydney Opera House shone, still in the process of being built.
"The boat leaves tomorrow." The manager said reluctantly.
"And so should I."
He glanced at her, sighed, and opened the manila folder again. She smiled, her 23 years of youth mingling into sophistication. It was, after all, 1956. Time to be in with the times. She had come from a town he had never heard of, and was so in-tune with the operation that it nearly horrified him. After hearing of all the intense security measures taken, a pretty Nancy-Drew looking girl sat in front of him, nothing less than pleading with him to place her on the team of scientists destined to the island.
The project.
He abruptly signed the documents in a ball-point pen and looked behind her head to the clock. It mutely chimed four in the afternoon.
"I cannot thank you enough, Mr. Hanso."
"My father will still want to talk to you about your…"he tried to place the words correctly. "Work…with Senor Valenzetti, of course."
She nodded politely, stood up and walked out the door, scaring the exotic fichus with her fierce smile.
Time to be at sea.
"Some-where….beyond the stars, is near…be-yond the blue…I'll know, with-out a doubt, my heart, will lead me there soon…We'll meet, and oh, we'lll meet…beyond the shore, we'll kiss.." The jazzy Frank Sinatra balanced the microphone stand in one hand, striking up the band with the other. Emily Foreston took out her compact mirror and inspected her raspberry-colored lipstick at the candle-lit table, millimeters from the stage itself. She snapped it shut, seeing the tuxedo-laden shoulders she could only associate with him. She turned around, smiling at her fiancé, and let him slide the chair out for her as the band finished their song. He kissed her hand.
"I love it here, Em." He said happily, settling down in the chair across from her. "We gotta get married here."
"Well- we're going to do just fine." Emily smiled haughtily. "I got a promotion today."
"A promotion!?" Emily's fiancé asked, kneeling down at the table. "Well, I might as well ask ya to marry me all over again."
"Oh stop it, you're going to make a scene."
"And if I do? I love ya too much, Em."
Emily gave a Scarlett O'Hara smile and took a sip of wine. "I'm going to be gone for a while, Thomas."
Thomas' face fell. "How long's a while?"
"A long time."
"Well, you're gonna come back, right?"
"Maybe. Maybe not."
Thomas suddenly smiled. "Stop messin' with me. I know a gorgeous girl like yous always got a drop of gypsy blood in 'er."
Emily looked straightly at Thomas. "Tom…I'm serious. I'm taking a boat out of here, and I have a project to work on that's gonna take awhile. You're better off finding another girl."
Thomas' blue eyes widened. "Baby…I'm over the moon for ya. I couldn't find another fish in the sea- even if I swam twice around this island you call Austrailia..Baby, you're the one."
"Stop saying that Thomas." Emily said. "You can lose me just as quickly as you found me." With that, Emily stood up, placed her napkin politely on the table, and stormed out.
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"Emily….Linus?" Ben asked with a certain doubt, stepping back. As if the news of what he was commanded to do was not shocking enough, the messenger of the tale was even more unnerving. In the back of his mind, he remembered the night she had shown up at his window, in the same clothes. He felt a cold hand on his shoulder and realized it was Annie without even looking back.
"Yes." Annie said. Emily only smiled at Ben, who was unsure what exactly to do or say. He merely stood, quietly, thinking through everything at a lightning pace.
He felt cold.
And although a thousand motivations ran through his head, he could only think of one thing.
"What do I do know?" He directed his question to Robert.
"You'll see, Ben." Robert said, a strange smile over his face and dark eyes. "You'll see."
And then, darkness.
Ben woke up with a blinding sunlight in his eyes. He could feel the grains of sand under him, and shook in terror as he tried to find assurance, a refuge from all the confusion.
It was the desert- blinding, desert that seemed to go on forever. Ben stood up, feeling the pain in his shoulder again, and turned around at all sides- hoping for some sort of enemy to fire upon him, to bring him back to everything.
He was still thinking hard when the two Arabian men rode up on their ornamented horses. He still thought as he spat out a word or two in Arab, and then took more forcible measures.
And as he left them both at the deserts' mercy, riding off on a horse, he still thought of her.
AUTHOR'S NOTE
Nice to be back writing again! I've been busy with a screenwriting contest at , and that's occupied most of my time! But, I turned in my script early this week, so I had time to come back and start this. Hope you like.
Emmie seems a bit 'out of character' from what we've seen- but t'will all be explained in time!
If you read, please review. It's just a nice thing to do. You don't have to put anything spectacular, just tell me you're reading it, and if you liked/ disliked anything and I'll be sure to take it to mind!
lola
