The Third Choice

This little scene was inspired by a prompt from Tomi Adeyemi’s site.  It’s just a vignette, unconnected from any other story… someday, maybe, I’ll write the rest of it.


Her chances were slim, but she couldn’t let that stop her.  It was escape or death and she wasn’t ready to die.  She raised the chair over her head as the door opened.  As a familiar head peered around the edge of the door, into the room, she nearly screamed.  She did drop the chair.

“Henry,” she breathed.  “What are you doing here?”

He looked at her as if she’d just asked a supremely foolish question.  Perhaps she had.  In any case, he said, “I’m rescuing you, of course.”  Then, he beckoned to her and slipped back into the corridor.  “Come on,” he called back, his voice hardly louder than a whisper.

Releasing a shaky sigh, she fell into step behind him.  When he reached back to hand her a sidearm, she relaxed even more.  Why was it that she only ever saw two choices in every situation?  She should know by now that there was always a third choice.  In this case, her choices had been: escape, death… or wait for help.  Her chances of succeeding had gone up dramatically, now that she wasn’t doing it alone and she wasn’t unarmed.  “Thanks, Henry,” she breathed.

“Any time,” he replied, giving her a lopsided grin.  Then, he beckoned to her and they slipped down a side corridor.  Together, they could face whatever life might throw at them.


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