Warm-up Sketchbook 07/28/15

Published: Jul 27, 2015 by Sofy Kabachek

Action/Thriller: You are in a hotel room. You have an important photograph in your pocket. You are being followed throughout the story. You must deliver sensitive information.

I looked through the curtain. It was as dark outside as it was in this small hotel room. The damn heat took out the power in the entire block. Sweat rolled down my brow. I told myself it was the heat, but a persistent voice in the back of my head urged me to get my shit together. I’m supposed to be a professional. At least that’s what the sign I glued to my door said. A certified private investigator. The fact the my certificate was for HVAC repair and maintenance was just a small omission I had to propagate in order to get this first gig. Besides I only had a few weeks left on that online Criminal Justice degree. I’m practically an expert by now.

I noticed some movement around the corner of the street. It was a couple. Laughing. No care in the world. What a nice existence. Honestly, I have no idea why I thought this would be a good career plan. I guess HVAC technician didn’t have the spark I was looking for, and mystery writer didn’t pan out as well as I hoped. This seemed like the next best thing.

The film cassette was burning a hole in my jacket pocket. Metaphorically speaking. I was acutely aware of it pressing against my ribs. I thought it was a clever idea to shoot the photos on film. No trace, no copies, no cloud. I had full control, and the only copy. I even set-up a little developing lab in my office. The problem was, I sucked at developing photos. I burnt through a whole pack of photograph paper trying to get some nice print of that film. Quite literally. I had to get rid of the bad copies somehow. Metal trash can and some Bio-Lite did the trick.

Who knew that the wife wouldn’t be the only interested in some pictures of a senator’s off hours. No, it’s not what you think, not what she thought either. It’s much worse. And now I’m smack in the middle of it all. With my only evidence rolled up in a little tube.

A knock on the door snapped me back into reality. Shit. I wasn’t really expecting anybody.

This is a warm-up sketch. Find out more HERE.