The Secret's Keeper

     A woman has a secret, but it is not, as the people illegally searching her apartment imagine, hidden in the army of shoe boxes filed in rank under her bed. It may not even be a secret she is aware of knowing, as secrets are her business, and she keeps them like breathing. Interested parties find it difficult to determine just how much she really knows, and she uses their confusion to her advantage, pitting one against the other until there are only two left. But of course they are the most dangerous. The ones who will not simply stop at asking questions, but who will take the answers.

    I am inserted into her life like a deadly shadow. Dogging her steps and anticipating the movements of her enemies. My soul purpose is to guard the secret no one is certain she even holds. It is a balancing act on a very real edge.The next fatal visitor who comes calling finds me at the door in her place. The sharp blade he wields leaving his hand for mine as I disarm him fast enough it's as if it were by magic. A very confused assassin finds himself invited in for tea and cookies, and a chat. I pay little attention to the words they toss back and forth, instead I focus on the visual cues, watching for a sign that will require my reaction. 

     The woman has come to realize that the only way she can be safe is to share the knowledge she holds. Or convince the parties involved she actually knows nothing. As I sit watching she is in earnest negotiations to do just that. She wants this whole inconvenient incident to be over and done with as soon as possible. When assassins stop knocking at her door she can be rid of me and back to her normal routine. I cannot entirely blame her. I too wish to take my leave. There are too many secrets in this place... too many shoes.