Shane’s neck felt like his dog had licked it, wet and hot.
He missed Buster. Would rather be with him than here.
“You ready?” Travis asked.
“Yup,” he lied.
A woman walked through the turnstile of the building, slow and steady in her heels.
Travis reviewed the plan: Run in. Get everything. Barely speak. Exit through that damn turnstile.
Shane’s sweaty hands stuck to the leather duffel.
“Alright. Three, two—”
The two ran into the bank.
Travis, thinking about the whatnots he would buy.
Shane, hoping he’d see Buster when it was all over.
Thanks for reading! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.
Comments
Nothing yet. Say the first thing.
Sign in to join the conversation.