The sound of banging on the door of the fourthfloor apartment awoke the sole occupent aburbtly.
‘WHAT!?’ came the gruff reply to the knocking as the door flew open.
‘Don’t yell at me. Do you have the package?’ a cool voice returned.
The older man grumbled an answer as his visitor welcomed himself in. The visitor, acting like he owned the place, made his way to the kitchen; clearing off a chair he sat and put his feet on the cluttered table.
‘What? like I asked befo-get your feet off my table! I just cleaned up in here.’
The visitor let out a humorless laugh, looking around he said ‘You’re kidding right?’ his brief smile faded as his eyes turned cool, like his voice ‘You refused my last payment. Why?’
The man wiped the sleep from his eyes, ‘I-I…’ starting again he said, ‘I needed the money. But then I saw that package…you’re too young. You’ll end up like me, kid.’
‘No, old friend. You are weak. I’m nothing like you. They need to pay…’
‘I can’t let you do this’
‘Where’s the BOX , Baver!!’