The Dime

“I’m telling you, Paul, I can hit a dime from 500 meters. Right down the middle,” Dave boasted through his coms while he put his gun together.

“Yeah, we’ll see Dave. I glued on the window. Hopefully, it’ll still be there,” Paul said sitting in his car in front of the targets’ building.

“Thousand bucks says I kill him with the dime,” Paul said turning off the lights off in the empty room.

“Make it two and you’re on.”

“Sounds good to me,” he said placing his rifle on the crates. “I’m in position.”

“Perfect, because they just pulled into the garage. Did you find the dime yet?” Paul asked undoing his seat belt to get out of the car. He lights a cigarette.

“I found the window it should be on but the lights are off so I don’t see it.”

“Yeah, yeah, excuses, excuses. Good luck finding it in that wall of windows.”

“Well get going, the first light just turned on,” Dave said noticing the shine off the dime at head height on the window.

“On my way,” Paul said as he flicked his cigarette.

Dave watches a man and woman lug four duffle bags into the living room. They drop them on their coffee table. The man’s head danced around the coin as the two of them swayed. He spins hers and lifts her up and presses her into the glass. The three heads line up. Dave pulled the trigger, a puff of smoke, and he saw a quarter sized hole where the dime once was and two bodies on the floor.

“Whooow! Three for one! Hurry up and get your ass in there. Also, I expect my money tonight,” Dave said stifling his celebratory dance.

“Yeah, we’ll see I have to make sure it didn’t just fall on the floor or something,” Paul said as he picked the lock.

“Well hurry up the boss expects his shit back in 45 minutes,” Dave said dismantling his gun. “How did he even know they were going to rob him?”

“The boss knows everything, don’t even think about crossing him. Or you’ll end up like these two.”

“Yeah fuck that. I’ll see you back at the ranch,” said Dave leaving the apartment. “Oh, and don’t forget my money,” he laughed as he took out his earpiece.

Published by Danton Lamar

I grew up in a country that thinks it is better than it is and left because I wanted to know if the rest of the world was as crazy. These are the writings of a man trying to stay sane I'll post a story or poem every Wednesday

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: