http://slow.writerscafe.org/KenAdamsNSA The original writings of author Adriaan Noordzij en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776037638 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Mitch felt a wave of panic shoot through him as Vicki’s sweet voice drifted through his mind. His breath hung in the evening air, a plume of fog issuing from his lips. It was raining now, hundreds of tiny droplets falling around him as his hair sagged under the weight of the water. The pavemen.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/KenAdamsNSA/262047/ Mitch woke up hours later, choking and coughing as blood filled his throat. He jolted up, and let it leak out of his mouth, the liquid drenching the black bag that still enveloped his head. The bag was tied tight, but not to the point that Mitch couldn’t breathe. He grabbed at the bag’s .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/KenAdamsNSA/262046/ Mitch felt unreal as he approached the abandoned warehouse the next day. He hadn’t had contact with Strauss for at least 24 hours, and with the kind of business they were involved with, 24 hours could reveal drastic, unwanted changes. Mitch’s heart was racing as he walked down the hallwa.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/KenAdamsNSA/262045/ Mitch arrived at home that night completely disheveled, his hands shaking and his voice quivering as Vicki sleepily asked him why he was so late. Mitch merely uttered a grunt, incapable of formulating a sufficient answer for the simple question. He crawled underneath the covers and wrapped his arms .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/KenAdamsNSA/262043/ Mitch became a regular at The Cellar in the following weeks, and he couldn’t help but allow it to become his new home away from home. Truly, The Cellar became another sanctuary for him, and as much as he wanted to hate this concept, he allowed himself to submit to it. He didn’t seem to h.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/KenAdamsNSA/262041/ Mitch’s first day of work was unlike any other. As he pulled up to the abandoned warehouse he now called his “office,” Mitch had no idea what to expect from Strauss. What was his job? It didn’t seem like things were going to be too different from the Dice, but Mitch had a sne.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/KenAdamsNSA/262039/                 Mitch’s drive home that night was particularly interesting. A mixture of feelings danced inside him, ranging from happiness, to utter self-loathing. Why had he taken that job? Why had he gotten involved?.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/KenAdamsNSA/262036/ Mitch whirled around for a second time, and once again came face to face with the misleadingly good-looking Strauss. He appeared slightly less business-like this time, dressed in a more casual Calvin Klein black suit with a royal velvet dress shirt underneath it. He was still wearing those movie-sta.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/KenAdamsNSA/262035/ Mitch lay awake in his bed, completely restless and unable to sleep. His family was in potential danger, and now he was practically indebted to this Strauss character in order to protect them from any harm. It was very clear that Strauss meant business; the tone in his voice had made that quite clea.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/KenAdamsNSA/262034/ The next day at “work”, Mitch was feeling particularly lucky. The drama of the evening prior had already blown over, which was less than surprising, considering that stories of murders and rapes consistently fell off the radar within a day in Vegas. Mitch sat at his usual table in the ba.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/KenAdamsNSA/262033/ Mitch’s hands were sweating and shaking uncontrollably as he gripped the steering wheel tightly. His eyes went in and out of focus, still dazed from the dramatic events that occurred just moments prior. His breathing was sharp and shallow, and he struggled to regain his composure in the comfor.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/KenAdamsNSA/262032/ Mitch's drive to "work" everyday was exhilarating at least, depressing at best. His own mental torment drove alongside his Audi through the twists and turns of the winding Vegas highways. Always dark. No matter what time it was, all Mitch saw was darkness. Sure, he saw lights and color, it.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/KenAdamsNSA/262030/ The familiar feel of the cold steel in his hands sent shudders up his spine. The .45 caliber pistol clenched tightly in his hands felt loose, unreal, almost as if it weren't there. His vision was hazed, the world bleached in a grain effect and pale white contrast. The grass, the playgrounds, the sky.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/KenAdamsNSA/262029/ Mitch Campbell is a wreck. Everything he knows is falling apart before him, and in order to save what he treasures most, he must sacrifice his own safety. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/KenAdamsNSA/252910/