True story
Scrap Metal
So, another Friday, another #quickfic competition to enter… This one inspired by the dusty handshake in the picture above.
Scrap Metal
“Good morning, gentlemen. I am the Director-General of the Ministry of Posts and Telegraphs. Let me assure you that you have been selected because of your reputations as honest businessmen.”
I smiled at that. Miriam would be surprised that I had any reputation at all.
I looked around the sumptuous room at my five competitors. They were all relaxed and seemed infinitely confident. I, on the other hand, could not stop fidgeting.
“Do you all have your sealed bids prepared?” The Director-General looked at each one of us in turn.
Each look was answered by a curt nod.
My mouth was dry and it took every gram of strength to raise my hand. The Director-General raised an eyebrow.
“Monsieur Poisson?”
“May I have a private word with you, Director?”
He looked surprised, perhaps for a moment even frightened. He looked at the others and then gave his own curt nod.
We adjourned to the bedroom of the hotel suite and I drew the thick envelope out of my breast pocket. It was far too thick to hold only a bid.
His eyes widened and he smiled. This smile was the most natural expression I’d ever seen. It made the rest of his face look false.
“I understand how difficult it is to survive on a government salary.” I said. “Perhaps this will help.”
We shook hands.
A day later I received the title-deeds to the Eiffel Tower.
The day after that I realised the truth. I didn’t tell the police.
The winners can be found here