Midnight gusts of wind rattled the windows giving the gallery an eerie ambiance. A red-headed woman and a thin man opened a crate of terracotta mythical beasts in the gallery’s darkened room. The woman removed a beast from the box and brushed sawdust away, revealing cracked, sunken eyes.
Thin man shined a flashlight on the beast and whistled.
Then, the woman stood in the shadows, raised the beast above her head, and smashed it to the floor. “Not artifacts,” she yelled. “Fakes!”
A security guard shouted. "You have five minutes to get out of here. There's gonna be a shift change, and I have to get the cameras back online.”
Thin man pulled a revolver from his jacket, threatening the guard. "Move," he said, pushing the guard into the hall and following him down two flights of stairs, into the storm. “This operation’s been in the works for months, and you give us fakes.”
Floodlights signaled the rush of Federal agents. "Drop your weapon," echoed from a bullhorn.
The guard took a deep breath as thin man lowered the revolver. He was all set, even had a buyer.
About the Creator
Pamela Williams
“Suppose I had wings like the dawning day and flew across the ocean. Even then your powerful arm would guide and protect me.”
— Psalm 139:9–10, Contemporary English Version (CEV)
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More stories from Pamela Williams and writers in Fiction and other communities.
The Sawdust Man and the Unfortunate Soul
"May I be so bold as to offer you a libation, my good lady, to ward off the evening’s chill?" “I must confess, I have already partaken of a few measures this evening, my lovely gentleman, but I am quite certain that one more shall do me no great harm. A drop of comfort never went amiss in such a dreary season as this.”
By Sam H Arnold7 days ago in Fiction
Day 4 of Quitting
If this is how sobriety feels, maybe it’s better to go through life a little buzzed… this, along with other hits like, I want to kill myself, I wish I was dead, and I’m going to throw myself off a bridge have been the only thoughts on rotation these past few days. I promise myself that if, in a month, I still feel like this (‘this’ meaning despondent, full of rage, and simultaneously numb) I can go back to smoking. Until mid-February though? Nicotine is off the table.
By sleepy drafts5 days ago in Longevity
Comments (6)
Loved the twist, Pamela!
Bob Marley, i like it. Every little thing. Cool heist, wonder what happened, they get so lost between the many challenges.
This was brilliant!! 👏👏👏
Loved it
Great job ❤️💯❗
There is so much going on in this piece. I have company from out of town here and can't give it the time it deserves. I will try to get back to this when I have more time. But I look forward to your next work as well.