What is a Short story

Rhiannon Lewis. You'd be amazed at the characters we get in here. They come in all shapes and sizes. And temperaments; don't talk to me about the ...

There was a scraping and a shuffling and Mr Suit’s face, or what was left of it, appeared on the floor. Would I have time to grab Cheryl and make a run for it before the alarms went off? I felt really bad for Cheryl because she was still tied to her chair and more or less a sitting duck. I don’t know much about artillery but no one was coming out of there in a hurry. I told her to head for the office manager’s desk and she’d be given a nice hot cup of tea, and if she was lucky, some toast. For a brief moment, I even found myself wondering whether it was too late to join them. He came up and sat next to me when I was having my mid-morning cuppa. I toyed with the idea of getting in touch with the authorities, but they don’t like being bothered by trivia. He was harassing a Tudor merchant at the time and not paying any attention to what was going on around him. I apologised to the woman and handed her my clipboard for safe-keeping. She has the patience of a saint, I swear. I put my hand on his shoulder to let him know I was there.