The band played loudly as the secret agent made his way to the back of the smoke-filled bar. His way was blocked by a thuggish-looking doorman.
“Why should I let you through?” He asked, menacingly.
The spy laughed in contempt, holding open the bag he was carrying to reveal the contents to the doorman. Not one word did he utter.
“Good answer.” The doorman pushed open the heavy door to let the man in the over-sized overcoat walk through.
The bare walls and stone floor of this room caused the spy to reflect on his career. I remember the days I’d go on proper missions, he thought as he heard giggling coming from yet another room off this one. He picked up a small square card from a rickety table in the corner, and did as the instructions told him.
He left he pizza on the table, and took the small wad of cash that had been left beside the card. He kept the change. Still, the pay’s good in this malarkey.
He lifted his collar, pulled open the heavy door once again, walked straight passed the thuggish doorman, across the bar and out through the exit into the night.
A slightly different attempt at the Wordle this week, as I’ve used the words in a short (200 word) tale, rather than one of my random rhymes.
The Mansionic Perspective 
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