Walter was tired. He had risen before dawn, as it was a long drive through the mountains to reach the chateau. Now it was early afternoon and he had only begun to fulfill his mission. He stood in the doorway, gun cocked, arm raised, waiting, listening.
I’m too old for this, he thought. This is for the young men. What did Yeats say? “That is no country for old men.” Well, that’s me – the Old Man.
Walter had no illusions about his job. He knew he was about as valuable as the scraps of paper in his briefcase. Soon they would be relegated to the trash heap. What was he but just another cog in the wheel, another link in the chain – perhaps its weakest link – just another expendable…
“Cut!” yelled the director. “That’s great. You can go now, Walter. Smitty, go tell Mr. Connery that we’re ready for him.”
Flash fiction prompt provided by http://www.writerlycorner.com/