Sara's POV
I entered the office in the morning as always before anyone just to enjoy my warm Starbucks coffee, I love it when the caffeine rushes into my veins like sobriety coach waking up my dormant organs especially my redundant brain.
No beverage on this planet can top my warm cup of coffee which is complemented with full creme milk.
As soon as I took the last sip of my invigorating beverage the door was opened to show my Boss.
The mere type of suffocating disasters on the planet in my 4 years experience in this magazine I've never seen him smiling as if my life needs more toxic people Duh!
"SARA".
"GOOD MORNING MR.Smith "
"Good morning so to cut into the chase we have to cover a horse race which is gonna take place tomorrow. "He said and my blood froze
"And?" I asked he can't be doing that
"You're gonna cover it Sara "
"But Mr.smith, I am an architecture critic you can't give me some task from the sports department this is not my Job"I argued my heart beating roughly against my rib cage ....horse riding! I thought I'd never see horses ever again I escaped it for good.
"I'm the boss here Sara I am the one who determines what is your job and what is not "he threatened. Deeply I inhaled and nodded, this is my only source of income and I'm lucky enough to get such a position I probably don't want to lose my job.
"Can I ask why me?"I asked he gave me a wink and a cunning look
"Can't find a better person Sara. We both know why you, come on
I'll receive your article tomorrow night "he said and left me with my chaotic thoughts.
If you're thinking that he didn't give me enough time so you are wrong.if you think that the due date should actually be my worry, then you're extremely wrong.
Let me introduce myself I'm Sara Hanks the well-known architecture critic or in other words, my articles never failed to gain people's liking. So, as any journalist only my name is famous and I refuse going out to the public I prefer being unknown. not only because I hate being a public figure , but also when people read my articles they believe that I'm a woman in my late forties or even fifties .it is all down to my highly bitter criticism on every small detail in any new building I've always been an old schooler even in my vocab I love using sophisticated words , I love the 19th century, I've always wished to live during that era where all men used to be gentle and women used to wear long dresses, when they called each other's sir and madam everything used to be done in tranquillity and peace of mind even the architecture during that era was splendiferous with tiny splendid details but unfortunately only my grand-grandparents were lucky enough to live during that century . Now enough with the dreams and here to my age, I'm 25 years old .....yes very younger than all my readers' expectations.
and now I should be preparing the frame of my new article or should I call it my "looming disaster"
I've always loved horses but a vicious hand separated me from these glorious creatures.
I sat on my laptop an started preparing the frame, getting the names of the competitors no wonder none of them sounds familiar not that I care.
come on Sara be your professional self, I inhaled deeply and started typing the introduction.
next day
I got up at 5:00 am normally I'm an early bird but I didn't have any sleep last night adrenalin was rushing rapidly in my veins and a glut of nightmares attacked me.
I took my daily shower, brushed my long hair into a high ponytail.
I took my daily coffee and drove to the horse race it was still 8: 00 am 3 hours before the race I inhaled deeply
"come on Sara you can do it. "I said to myself while loitering to the arena, the players were still getting ready perfect time to do an interview with them.
I maintained my cold facade the whole time I was suffocating I wanted to run away and quit work or kill my boss for forcing me to come here ...I'm stuck with a bunch of cheaters who think that they're idols ... they gain money for nothing ...the more I stay between them the more I feel that my bile is rising.
I checked the list of names in my hand and there was only one competitor left and of course, this one was the most important jerk duh! he's been the gold medalist for 2 years now but he was nowhere to be seen.
I had a picture of him on my Ipad so I started moving between competitors and horses till my eyes landed on a shiny black horse I tapped its back lightly it was so mesmerising.
"ARE you looking for someone young lady ?" a gentle voice asked I looked behind me there was the jerk I'm looking for
"Are you MR. Louis Clark ?" coldly I asked "as if you don't know me ?" he answered what? he is a big asshole maintain your furry Sara you need your job
"I'm begging your pardon sir I'm a magazine writer who believes that athletes are just ignorant creatures who gain money from absolutely nothing, so I'm very sorry to let you down and tell you that I don't know you. " I said with a cold strict smile
"hey young lady don't forget you still want something from me to keep your living''
"actually you might be the one who needs this to maintain your fame because believe me I'm a bitter critic "I challenged he looked at me mimicking my cunning smile
"is this a threat "
" not if you acted nice during the interview MR. Loius "
"deal start you're freaking interview I don't wanna mar my mood before the race"
Never underestimate my capabilities in interviewing people, my job is the only thing I live for now and I've never failed in covering every small detail about any event.
YOU ARE READING
HORSE REPORTER
Short StorySara Hanks is an architecture critic who was forced to cover what she calls a looming disaster but actually it is a simple horse race. However, for her, it is a reminder of her painful past. Louis Clark the king of the horse racing he earned the gol...