The Gold Mine by
Sami S. Khalil
I was looking for an adventure. Working with feverish
pace, I hated drudgery. As the cinereal hours passed by, I invariably
daydreamed about vacationing on a secluded Virgin island. Although gregarious
and swaggering (people noted about me), I found solitude sometimes in writing
spy novels more fulfilling and the quintessential self-partner.
Working at the patent office in Washington, D.C., I had firsthand
knowledge of conspicuous scientific exploits. To be candid, I could have sold
those secrets for untold amount of money, becoming wealthy. I can’t claim I did
not entertain those thoughts. You could say I was a civil servant without
civility. Little I knew that the Russians were watching my every move. Come to
find out later, I was given the title “Bull Dog”; one only apt for a canine and
some humans. That was extremely fitting for my character but mawkishly corny.
One day, as I opened my mail box, I found a pleasant
surprise. I had won a free trip to the Virgin Islands. Ecstatic, I knew deep
down I really needed this vacation. What a good time to unwind and focus on
employing that precious time to finish my whodunit works. As I landed on the
islands, a glamorous limousine picked me up that was endearing. A dapper
looking driver kindly opened the car door. As I stepped in, I felt a blunt
instrument dropping me unconscious. The next morning, I woke up in a hotel room
as my eyes solidified on a gorgeous Russian beauty with a seductive nature.
As she introduced herself to me, she claimed to be my
escort on the island, an escapism appendage evolving into a true lover. We
delved into some relinquished vices, incredible and awesomely unrivalled. She
won me over head over heels in her love. Although she was a trained spy- actor,
it is safe to say that she found me dashing with Olympian self-parody. Those
natural charms can come in handy and can be irreplaceable. I asked her to marry
me and she acquiesced. A real man she had found, humorous and spicy.
After we got married and settled on the outskirts of
Washington, D.C., I became a tough, gritty secret agent to Russia (They paid me
a million dollars for every scientific revelation). With that money, Tatiana
and I lived lavishly, an over- the- top lifestyle; a role not watered down by
circumstances or personal judgements. We visited Russia many times (which I
admired) with some retooled controversies. I was rendered rough around the
edges and arrogant. I guess I outsmarted myself in many ways, too.
This is why I wrote this biography from jail. The FBI was
on my trail waiting for the right moment to snatch me, arresting on
espionage. But in a twist of fate, a deceptively complicated operation; a spoof
was carried out by the Russians. An exact look-alike, a perfectly composite resemblance,
was exchanged with me in jail (the guard was paid off a million dollars), as I
was flown back to Russia into the arms of my beloved wife (My heart was beating
inexorably like a rollercoaster as this operation was pulled off).
A U.S.’s DNA test revealed on my replacement the
semiotic fact. The “Gold Mine” has fled. Now, hold on folks. I like that title.