The angle was very acute, and the timing perfect, as it had to be for a job like this. The moment I got the signal:
Six seconds to Main and Pacific St.
Twenty-eight seconds to the outside of the bank.
No more than fifteen seconds to load the trunk with the money.
And once we ditched the car at the scrapyard two point five minutes later, we’d be home free and a few million dollars richer.
Then why did you chase your ball into the street…?
Why couldn’t I stop in time…?
Why did God sacrifice such a little angel, just to stop a heist?
My entry for this week’s 100 Word Challenge from Julia’s Place. Not sure where this came from originally, but it wrote itself a might quick…
I hope you all enjoy.