Ficlets and Ficly survivor, FicMom, and Mistress of Well-Intentioned Indecision and Goddess of Unrequited Love. @ElshaHawk @HawkandYoung
I had folded the last messed up t-shirt in the souvenir shop. No one had come in for at least 30 minutes. It was probably safe to take a lunch break. Since this was my cousin's shop, and he was out doing whatever, there was no other person to relieve me.
I pulled my lunch box from under the cash register counter, unwrapped a sandwich and inserted a straw in a juice box. This gig didn't pay much.
The bell rang over the door as I took a huge bite. A person fell backwards into the store, knocking over a stand of key chains. I put my sandwich away, but before I could move or swallow, another person shoved the door open and grabbed the first by the shirt, yanking them back to their feet.
Always gets busy right when I go to lunch.
"Where is it?!"
"Man, I told you, I don't know! I'm just the messenger!"
"Liar!" The larger one threw the smaller one into a rack of surf shorts. I ducked, but not low enough. "YOU! Don't even think about calling the police!" He turned on me with a knife.
I raised empty hands.
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