Inside My Head

2 min read

I found another freewriting piece. I think the prompt was to write an entire story with a clear beginning and end only on 1 page. It was an exercise in limiting yourself to a small space. It was for my humor class as well. We could choose any topic, and I chose the topic I was most comfortable with: the secret agent world.

I went through the Farm like it was a candy store. Top marks. My psych evals showed great temperament. Marksmanship? No scope, bitch. I trained hard. I got sent Over There because of my gift of tongues. I was thrilled. It didn’t occur to me until later that I was leaving my family behind and I might not come back. TDY was my rote answer. They didn’t question it. It wasn’t like they had the clearance. We shut down a money laundering scheme from a certain enemy of the United States operating There. Can’t say more than that. Sorry. For my hard work, I got “awarded” a desk job. My cunning linguist skills were needed to translate any and all reports coming up over Echelon. I could feel my physical talents grow fallow. The guys at the gym noticed. It got back to my superiors. Went through a refresher course. Fails across the board. I lost my swag. I’d never seen so many red marks on a redacted report. Went home and cried like I lost my dog. The powers that be believed in me. They sent me abroad again. Something was different. I could feel it even as the agent scanned my passport of the woman with my face but not my name. I was pleased that my reflexes were quick. I saw the muzzled gun blast in the shadows of the Burj Khalifa. I feigned death. I always was a great actress. It was almost too easy. Whomever this guy was, he wasn’t very good. He didn’t do a very thorough investigation of my supposedly dead carcass. No double tap. He sent proof to Them and buried my body in the desert. I let my training take over. Was buried for 12 hours before I thought I was safe. I went underground. I wasn’t mad they eliminated me. My name would go on their wall of fallen heroes. My family would get a nice funeral and the American flag for the mantle. If anything, it freed me to find a better version of me, one that wouldn’t fail. Their mistake.


  1. Sometimes your shorter pieces are so powerful it makes me want to go inside your brain and pull the story out. In a nice way!