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Thursday, August 11, 2011

Flash Fiction - The Briefcase

The Briefcase

“We can't keep it.”
“Sure we can.”
“No, it has to belong to somebody. This kind of money. It's going to be missed.”
“No one is missing it. Look how dusty the case is. You wouldn't even have found it if it weren't for me.”
“So! What does it matter who found it?”
“So I should get to keep it.”
“You? How do you figure that would work? What's wrong with you today?”
“I'm bored! This convention is boring. You are boring.”
“I'm not either. I've done everything you wanted to do at this convention. Even stuff that could get me fired. You are never happy!”
“I would be happy with this money.”
“No you wouldn't. You won't be happy until I'm gone.”
“Well there's no arguing that. But it's impossible, isn't it now?”
“Yes. It is.”
“Don't even think about it. I won't go.”
“I could make you go.”
“No you can't. You think I don't know you've been trying? I'm not as weak as you think.”
“Yeah, you're right. I've come to realize that lately.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing. Forget it. Just take the briefcase and let's get out of here before someone sees.”
“Okay, but I'm taking it to the front desk.”
“No! No, we are keeping the money!”
“It's probably marked anyway. As soon as we try to spend it, they'll find us.”
“If that's the case, they'll find you. I'll be long gone.”
“Oh, is that how it is? You want me gone so you can keep the money to yourself but if we get caught I take the blame?”
“Quit being so sensitive. You were always the responsible one. This shouldn't surprise you.”
“Oh shit. That bellboy is watching us.”
“So just act natural. We aren't actually doing anything wrong.”
“I'm leaving.”
“Not without the MONEY!”
“I'm not taking it.”
“Then I will.”
“You can't. Not without my help.”
“I think I can. I'm sick of you. Sick of depending on you for everything. I never get to decide.”
“That's because you would kill us both.”
“I don't think so.”
“No! Stop! You're choking me. I can'”
“I can kill you. I know it! This will work. You just have to think you're dead.”
“ahh...won' both...”
“Sir? Are you okay. What's wrong? Are you choking? No, an allergy? Do you have an epi-pen? Sir? Sir?”
“He was just standing there talking to himself-”
“To himself?” the office asked. “You're sure? There wasn't someone else here.? Someone you couldn't see?”
“No, he was alone. I'm sure of it. He was talking, real quiet, and then, he just grabbed his throat.” The bellboy stopped and thought about it. “Well, I guess he wasn't grabbing his throat as much as clawing at it. By the time I reached him he was almost unconscious. I wasn't sure what to do.”
“I'm sure you did what you could. It probably was an allergic reaction. Something pretty severe though, to close up his throat like that so fast. What about this briefcase? Is it his.”
“I didn't notice. Sorry.”

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  1. awesome! i didn't expect the ending again! lol! love it SL! c",)

  2. Thanks AO - I hope I never become predictably unpredictable!

  3. AH I LOVE IT! Totally took me off guard! I was all whaaaOOOOH YEAH! So cool.