Journey to Redemption ✔

02: a Letter of Deception.

The light peeked slightly through the drapes and landed on Zoran's face, who almost immediately jolted upwards. He yawned, and looked around in a confused manner.

He sighed, and rubbed his face.

Zoran, half asleep, dragged his feet across his bedroom kitchen. The aluminum bowl, half-full, spilled over bits as he stretched to grab the milk on the counter. He feasted his mouth on the plastic bottle as if he had been thirsty for days, stopping only when he felt a slight brush against his legs.

"Babushka..." he cooed, looking down at his cat.

He wiped his mouth with his sleave and proceeded to hesitantly pat his little friend, who eagerly purred all his worries away.

He felt sorry that he might have frightened her the night before. But Babushka didn't hold any grudges.

He poured half his food into the cat's bowl, and they both sat on the couch eating away until the mailman interrupted their moment with a shout.

Zoran mumbled something under his breath and strolled over to the door, displeased with the thought that he'd have to go outside so early to get his mail.

"A letter for Mr. Zoran Miroslav, coming right up, sir!" said a boy, no older than thirteen. Ginger ringlets contoured his freckled face which stretched in a wide smile. "I know you don't like getting outside early, and since you let me play with Babushka yesterday, I thought I'd do you this one favor, sir."

Zoran smiled briefly and sighed with relief.

"Thank you," he told the boy, turning around to look for his wallet. "I ought to give you some pennies, if you stick around for just a moment."

"No need, sir," said the boy, making his way down the stairs of the establishment. "I didn't do it for the money! Plus, I am going out today with the gang!"

"Very well then..." said Zoran, smiling at the little gesture.

"Have a good day, Mr. Zoran!" shouted the boy as he ran outside.

He thought highly of Gale. He was a good lad, not like the rest of the scoundrels he started hanging out with in the past few days. They were no good for the boy, he thought. But he had no business telling him that.

Zoran squinted his eyes as he ripped the letter open. And begun to inspect its content.

Dear Mr. Miroslav,

It has been brought to our notice, that your eagerness in regards to your given tasks and your good coordination with your colleagues has helped our company's projects over in Raven Glass in a considerable manner.

It is with great regret that we inform you of the closing of our Raven Glass branch. And with that possible loss of such great employee as yourself...

Zoran paused, clenching his jaw, and leaned against the wall as he continued to read.

...With your eagerness in mind, and your team spirit into consideration, we would like to inform you that your presence is required in London this following Saturday for further possible discussion on the matter at hand...

"But that is today!" he exclaimed, looking the calendar hanging on the wall.

There wasn't time to think.

Zoran furrowed his eyebrows, which deepened the fine lines already present on his forehead. Sighing he opened the cupboards that held most of his worldly belongings, and grabbed a few garments and some other things. He ultimately laid them all down on the couch. A pair of overalls, the blue ones with the stain, three shirts, underwear and socks. After a brief close inspection, he brought one of the shirts close to his nose and gave it a strong sniff.

Chlorine bleach.

Zoran twitched his nose and sighed once more.

"What can I even do at this point?" he mumbled.

There wasn't much time left. London was far enough, and a last-minute work trip wasn't what he had planned that morning.

He grabbed the tattered suitcase from behind the couch and shoved everything in it. Lastly, he threw on his cap and dashed towards the front door. But just as he was about to rush out the exit, he jolted looking down at his feet.

A soft touch brushed against his legs, making him turn around to bend down to the floor.

Babushka, with a triumphant 'purr', snuggled towards his extended embrace, and he held her close against his chest. For Zoran, no hug from Babushka was ever long enough.

"I'll bring you your favorite tuna when I get back," he whispered as he stroked her thick dark fur. "And that's a promise!"

Zoran sighed yet again, and they parted their hug, one more regretful than the other. Babushka saw him off to the door, and he gave her a last quick pat before departing towards the train station.