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The inspiration …
A story …
I was in a bad part of town, the room as gloomy as Sol’s face. He hunkered over it, jewelers loupe glinting under a single light.
I felt anxious but not unsafe. It would take one of Patton’s Army tanks to breech this hidey-hole. A tattoo of grey-green numbers was visible on Sol’s inner arm. One of Life’s hard lessons.
“Real?”
“Oh yes. Beautiful stone, 2 carats, antique cut.”
“And?”
“Real. Don’t tell me how it got loose from the … owner.”
That worried me. Not the diamond but its setting; a canine tooth – 3 inches long …
And human.
*****************************************
Now, your turn.
“Whomp!” “Thump-thump.” The heavy that had been guarding the basement door came rolling down the steps and lay, unmoving, in a growing pool of blood at the bottom.
He was followed, before he had come to a complete stop, by his partner, whose head was twisted at an impossible angle.
“One should never steal from the Templars,” the man in the navy-blue suit said as he stepped over the bodies.
A shot of icy fear ran up my spine. “My grandfather gave…”
“It doesn’t matter, Samson’s tooth must be returned.”
Sol handed the treasure to the knight, who promptly disappeared.
Steve Fletcher says: They said, “Come back tomorrow. Maybe a job tomorrow. Randy, maybe he retire tomorrow. Maybe we let him go. Come back tomorrow, tomorrow.”
I’ve been coming for almost a year, hoping somebody will give me a chance. I was laid aside last spring. Nobody had money to buy. Nobody wanting spring wagons anymore.
I’ve got a gun in the attic. I’ve thought about it. The heck is, I don’t have money for a bullet. Plus, mama’s sick, and the kids got to have somebody. Chances are I’ll be back next week. Who knows, maybe Randy will have retired by then.
David Krishan says: Even the dust devils had abandoned Main Street. The town’s unexplainable stillness worried me, but I could benefit from it. I went right for Hyman’s Pawn Broker; you know the place. Cash only, he’ll appraise anything, has a Confederacy-dressed mannequin out front. “Squeaky” Hyman kept sketchy records of his purchases, and nobody would care if I robbed that old man blind of his gold watches and ivory curios.
Noon, and Main was still clear, nobody in sight. I grabbed the stone planter in front of the store’s plate glass window and reared back to throw.
The mannequin drew its scimitar.
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