This must be the longest, most convoluted three lines I’ve ever written! For Sonya’s Three Line Tales.
Photo© Faustin Tuyambaze via Unsplash
I see the mark, looking round, uneasily—simple, looks exactly like his photo—but I wait, taking my time, enjoying the anticipation of the mayhem that will follow.
Someone turns—the client, what’s he doing there?—raises eyes to stare up to where I am standing—does the stupid fucker want to blow the whole thing?
Movement,the mark getting jumpy, spots the client, follows his gaze…ducks, shoving and elbowing through the muttering crowd, while the client points straight at me, shouts—what the…? Out, out, out!—and I slip away, a shadow, swearing and sweating, because suddenly, the mark is me.