The 7-11 parking
lot was empty except for the rust-eaten white Buick. The guy standing beside it looked like low
turnout at the casting call for Suspicious Character #5.
“You got the
money?” he greeted me.
I stared at
him levelly and indicated the junker.
“Money
first.”
The roll was
all hundreds. We’re thorough.
“All right.” He popped the trunk and cracked it. A gout of flame nearly took his hand off. I saw a glimpse of a golden, slit-pupiled
eye. “Satisfied?” he asked.
“I’ve seen
enough,” I agreed. I pulled out my
badge. Fish and Wildlife. “You’re under arrest.”
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4 comments:
it's hard to find bloggers still blogging..your's sound interesting with short stories.. Ok below I must prove I'm not a robot..but, what if I AM a robot I can still write that number down and you'd assume I was not, right?
hey wait..how many comments you want? haha...this is a trap isn't it.
Well, I guess you could consider it a trap. It's not a very good one, though. Like if comments were mice, I'd be returning this and complaining to the manufacturer.
Must be smuggling juveniles.
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