Clandestine [five sentence fiction]

Photo copyright Denise Mattox

Hovering in the dark night, the orb slowly circled the area; seeking, searching, prying, peeking, not sure what he was looking for. He avoided the streetlights and flashing neon signs, staying in the back alleys where the vermin and leftovers of humanity reigned. Higher, lower, back and forth he drifted along, ever probing the corners and recesses of the city for something known only in his subconscious. He stole a quick look at the object he gripped tightly; a key, a skeleton key in human tongue; something that unlocked doors, doors that kept out the unwanted and unexpected. Suddenly, there it was, THE door, bright red, holding the people on the other side safe from prying eyes even as their voices drifted outside; he placed the key in the lock, they would be hidden no more.

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