By Lawrence P. McGuire
“I’ve never done anything like this with anyone,” Corinne Glint said.
Traffic paid them no mind. Corinne and her boyfriend Bid Lovey were just another young Georgia couple in a rattletrap Mustang parked curbside. Old women, wobbling by on canes, gave them disapproving scowls. Bid, who had boxed in prison, returned their dirty looks, whistling through his mashed nose.
“I’ll be gentle,” he said.
“You won’t leave me?”
“We’re in this for life.”
“Bid, by your shark-gray eyes I can tell that’s true.”
“Good,” he said. “Baby, put on your mask, pick up that gun, and follow me into the bank.”
This is great. You should make this into a longer piece – I want to know what happens next!
Hey, Lawrence, nice little piece. “Your shark-gray eyes” was a subtle hint I recognized only after finishing the story..
Using the title for misdirection is a very efficient use of your 101 words. I shouldn’t have been fooled!
Nice piece. You could write this into a longer story.
Clever, well done.
Very clever!
Excellent. I want to know the prequel. How did they get to this point in their lives.