He sat on the pavement, looking at the door of her apartment. The bowler hat in front of him was full on crumpled dollar notes dropped by benevolent passersby who sympathized with his condition.
He knew he was taking a big risk, and he would pay a price far greater than what was in the hat if his disguise was seen through.
But that was just one of the things on his mind: the clouds were gathering, and he didn't have anything on except rags.
However, he had stopped caring about that.
The rain didn't matter anymore, it was no more different from the tears falling from his eyes each time he came here.
Even the sky shared his sorrow.
"The moment you join the CIA, you sell your soul, family, freedom, and safety to the organization." A voice in his head said, recalling his superior's words when he was first appointed seven years ago.
"You have no identity, no family and no safety", it echoed.
Then, it didn't mean anything to him. He hadn't met her. He didn't have a three-year-old daughter who'd never set her eyes on her father.
For the past three years, he was investigating a drug cartel which also had their sights set on ending his life. No matter what, he couldn't visit his family or be seen with them.
The price for their safety was his absence.
Only at this moment every Friday, dressed like a homeless vagabond, could he see his daughter being brought back from school by his wife and watch them both enter the apartment.
Moments like this cut through his heart like a knife, and it was a difficult price to pay.
But his clouds had their silver lining as long as he could see them here everyday.
Lead image courtesy of Unsplash.
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Wooow....This was an amazing story and a sad one...i was absorbed till the very end.