The Heist


The Heist (193 Words)

There’s something about a market in the early morning. Very little traffic, few passersby. The smell of humidity under the slow-rising sun.

Pam glanced at her watch. It was a quarter past six in the morning. Soon they would be here.

“What’s taking them so long?”

Pam shot a quick glance at her companion. Gael was always antsy before a heist, ready to climb the walls at the first whiff of trouble. That didn’t make him a handicap. Of all of them, Gael had the most experience with this kind of delicate operation.

“Here they are,” said Pam, seeing the group of two or three walking up the sidewalk.

Lorenz was officially the boss. The minute he reached them he started talking.

“You know the plan,” he said. “The dragon’s treasure is right under our feet. There’s an entrance in the apartment there and another through the sewer. The dragon herself could be anywhere—”

A sudden vibration under their feet made him stop talking. Pam leaning on the wall, trying to brace herself.

Gael’s mouth gave a wry twist. “That’s where you’re dragon is.”

Lorenz mopped his forehead. “Good luck people,” he said.


Written in response to Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner’s Photo PromptCheck it out!

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