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A successful businesswoman is held for ransom |
11:05AM The Happy Dry Cleaner Lock Street, Newark, New Jersey Saturday May 25th 2019 Part-time employee Josh Miller is swiping right on a dating site on his cell phone in the back office when the door bell clatters indicating a customer. He mutters 'fuck sake" and makes his way to the front desk. He is greeted by a corpulent lady the far side of the counter. "What can I do you for" he asks faking interest. "I'm here to collect my clothes, the name is Sternwood, Prudence. He sighs, "I'll check in the back". Five minutes later he returns with a collection of suits and blouses "Okay, here!" he places them on the customer counter top and returns to the back and his dating site. 11:55am The Chitchat cafe, Jersey Avenue, New Jersey. The corpulent lady sits by a window looking out onto the busy avenue sipping on a strong black coffee. Florence and Henry enter the coffee shop and sit opposite the lady. A waitress stops and takes their order of two take out coffees. Henry's eyes light up on sight of the dry cleaning "You got the clothes". "Obviously!", the woman replies sarcastically, "You got the money?", the lady replies. From inside his fawn summer jacket Henry removes a battered white A4 envelope containing four hundred dollars. "Better all be here!" as she places the envelope inside her red leather handbag "It is" whispers Florence anxiously scanning the cafe. The waitress returns with the two coffees. Henry gives her a ten dollar bill and she disappears. 10:30PM MontClair New Jersey Prudence stands at her door way and waves her parents as they drive out of her gateway in their silver Mercedes-Benz. She locks the front door and resets the alarm. Lethargically she begins to turn off the downstairs lights. In her living room a quarter empty bottle of wine and 3 wine glasses wait to be cleaned away. She will get the housekeeper Valeria to do it in the morning and let her keep the remainder of the wine. She catches herself in the hall wall mirror, the same one she examines herself every morning before leaving for work. Dressed in a black trousers and navy short sleeved blouse, for a day off work she dressed no different than a day she does work. It does not matter anyways, she works almost everyday. Her reflection didn't show up the same confident businesswoman it had previously in the morning, her sunken brown eyes barely visible from the light reflecting off her thick glasses. The business owned her, it's demands etched all over her face with flush red cheeks and stress lines that appears to have furrowed deeper into her brow. The business refused to let her unwind, her mind constantly worrying about hundreds of different things. The business annexed her body, it reminded her daily of this. It reminded her she should be working while she struggles to walk a flight of stairs. It makes her huff and puff after the slightest exertion, warning her that all her exertion should be the business. It tires her after short walks, encouraging her to stay seated and work. It threatens her with joint and back pain . It denies her a decent nights sleep. At times she fells the business kidnapped her and now she is a Stockholm syndrome victim. The pleas from her parents and sister for her to take better care of herself continuously fell on deaf ears, however Prudence wasn't in charge of her body, the business was in charge of her. As she stares across at herself she wonders if her business suits are really expensive prison uniforms. A uniform she practically wears everyday. She is drawn to her corpulent frame. She ponders all the yoyo diets, losing weight only to put it back on with excess. Then of course the failed exercise routines which were often abandoned before they start due to not enough time. She rubs her double chin, somewhere behind it her troublesome tyroid, it makes her battle with the bulge even harder. She thinks back to when she gave up on the diets, the realisation that she must accept she is who she is and be proud of that woman. Her mind wonders to the social media post and her encounter with Gretchen. The police haven't been able to locate her, this stresses her further. She yawns and sighs upon the thought of traversing the stairs like it is Everest. She shuffles her way towards the stairwell, she looks up it and sighs again. Stairs caused her a great deal of difficulty. She plans her day at home to ensure she avoided using them as much as possible. When working from home, she will have Valeria bring her meals or any requirements up to her office rather than face the endurance that the stairs provided. She grabs the banister for support and begins her ascent. Her joints strain with the burden of lifting her weight onto each step. Her windpipe feels completely closed as she gasps hard to draw breath with each step. Three quarters the way up, she grimaces with sharp pain radiating from her knees, an appointment she doesn't have time for will need to be made with Doctor Kelly. She gasps harder for breath. By the time she finishes ascending the stairs, her energy levels are sapped. She stands still for a few moments gasping hard, her airway struggles. She puffs and pants into her bedroom at a slow shuffle. Silently she curses her lack of fitness and promises to work on it when things quieten down but that day never comes. |