“The Last Job”



“The last time, everything fit into three duffle bags,” Kevin argued.

“I don’t care how many bags it took last time Kevin, I told you to bring at least four for this job,” Don whispered angrily, “and keep it down, someone’s gonna hear us if you keep complaining.”

This job certainly demanded more than three bags. The waterfront apartment belonged to some fairly popular musician, and was chock full of expensive items. Laptops, tablets, jewelry, designer clothes, and plenty more were available for the taking. The two thieves rushed to cram as many of the goods as they could into the three black duffle bags.

As they resorted to stuffing what they could in their pants pockets and jackets, they heard the muffled sound of a person outside the apartment door.

“They’re early!” Kevin said nervously, “there’s no way out other than…”

Both thieves looked to the balcony, which was three stories up from the beach below.

“We gotta do it, we have no choice,” Don said, his words bursting with doubt and anxiety. “On three: one, two, three—”

“The Last Job” is my submission for Week #5 of the FFftPP Challenge (Check it out here). It is composed of 177 words.

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10 thoughts on ““The Last Job”

  1. That reminds me of an old joke. It might not work when written down, but here goes anyway: Do you know what the difference is between jumping out of the first and the fifth floor window? Just a different word order. The latter goes, “Aaaah … CRASH!” while the former is more like, “CRASH … Aaaah!”

    Liked by 1 person

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