Tuesday’s tale, 5/5/2015.


Alright, five minutes on the clock:

His safe house was a small place in a well to do suburb outside of the city, not all that different from the suburb he had just worked in. He had worked on the persona to go with this place for a painstaking year, sleeping here occasionally and mowing the grass every weekend.

He had to pretend to be a good neighbor after all. The nail that stands up gets pounded down, and all that. He parked the car in the garage next to his own older BMW. It wasn’t his real car, of course… but it did belong to his current alter ego.

It wasn’t yet time to deliver the goods. What it was time for, was coffee and a bath. Not necessarily in that order.

And Time! Right at five minutes. I got distracted by something bright and shiny.


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