Male/Female

"And in the weather forecast, we can expect a freezing night with some snow, with lows of up to minus 18 degrees. And sources say that this trend could last for possibly the entire month..."

"Oh, you have to be fucking kidding me!" Nina spoke, practically snarling at the pretty weather forecaster on the TV. "A whole month of this every night? I'll be dead before Easter!"

A cheap motel, sitting where the cornfields meet the suburbs, is nearly vacant on this damp evening. Two cars sit in the dark lot, water beading on them. The rain has stopped now but its remnants fill the trenches and drains, soak the ground and splash under the tires of cars that whir past. One car slows and turns into the parking lot; emptying a pot hole with a splash. It comes to a stop beside one of the other cars; its lights go off and engine silences. After a few moments the door clicks and opens. A man steps out wearing a suit, loosely covered by a long overcoat.

56-year-old Chester Thompson sat back in his chair in the empty board room and puffed on his cigar. He should have seen it coming. He threw the packet of legal papers onto the desk in front of him. Another class action lawsuit. He should have seen it coming. When Chester had founded Gentech thirty years ago, his goals had been simple -- bring cutting edge scientific progress to the people. He’d even made the company logo “Expanding America’s Future.” Bringing high tech and innovative products to the common man and woman had made him a fortune. Then everything started to go wrong.

I knew that I had it in me to be a writer. I'd done some articles for my college paper a couple of years ago, and I'd even won some creative writing contest held by the local news. I even knew the subject I wanted to write about; I should, since I was using it to come to terms with who I was.