When we get into town, remember, the suitcase was never ours. We were at the circus. We were nowhere near the docks.“
Susan brusquely pulled the mirror out of her purse and held it up to his face. “See? No soul.”
They met in the back where the sounds of the lounge singer covered up their conspiratorial machinations.
He spent all his time around the station, fiddling with an umbrella, watching each train with a desperate look.
Kief smoke hovered around the tables and the steady clacking sound of game pieces was a kind of international code.
When they knocked on the door she ignored it then turned on all the appliances and started dancing.
From the rusty catwalk he could see the west side of the abandoned prison. He dreamed of revenge.
Snapping in time, she grew listless and impatient, slowly accelerating until the headlights revealed nothing but a blur.
He lifted each bag, carefully, so that the noxious contents would not slosh over the edges. He was not completely successful.
The men stood around the table, a single overhead light illuminating the plans of the bank vault. The side door was opened quietly.
He angrily tore down the blueprints pinned to the wall and shredded them with his teeth.
Her smile made a crinkling noise, like opening a bag of potato chips.
He cracked his knuckles, leaned forward, and asked them when they’d first noticed the strange odor.
Slipping the note into an inner pocket he nodded and then proceeded to set the banquet hall on fire.
She pulled them out of the bag one by one, slowly.