“Carry that case wherever you go. On a plane. In the rain. Even racing through seating at rugby games. You got it?”
Ha. That rhymes. I beat down a dopey grin. “Yes, Mother Carrot.”
She took me in when I got hooked on drugs. Made me a voluntary carrot. I’d transition to full status with a clear head. Badge and all.
Six months later, full carrot with sleek leafy duds. First assignment is a tough one, and I evade several armed officers before halting at your door. We give the signal and conduct a trade. My case for your cash.
Oh, and that carrot fixation? I’ll tell you later on.
Copyright © 2015 by Emily Clayton
Originally appeared on Micro Bookends: