Fiction: Substitute Muse

Acevedo checked Park’s office, just in case the man was ignoring his telephone. But no; he wasn’t there. Acevedo sighed and picked up the phone himself and made a call to building security.

“The atrium. Thank you.”

He shook his head as he walked down the hall to the elevator. He got out on the 70th floor and walked down another hall; it broadened into a large, open public space enclosed in glass. Various employees were taking their break there, looking out at the city or enjoying the numerous plants and trees that made the area a garden spot.

Acevedo quickly found Park; he was the only one not wearing correct business attire. Instead, he wore a black T-shirt with a wide red stripe across the chest, blue jeans, and yellow tennis shoes. He faced the center of the room and leaned back comfortably against the glass wall. Acevedo suppressed a shudder.

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