“You don’t want to mess with me…”.

[0300 hours]

“No! I can’t! How could you!”

“Yes, and shut up! Grab those bags under th’re! Quickly now!”

“But I can’t leave, not now…”

“You have to.” he said. The man with the greyish thinning hair stuffed five bags one after another. He snatched the sixth, till a woman’s hand touch stopped him cold.

He spits, “you can’t stop me. Let me go.”

The woman whispers, ” or what… what will you say to them? What will the neighbours think?”.

The man grunted, his dirtied yellow stained fingernails pinching the zip of a duffel bag, where he took out a thick wad of greens.

“What do you think are you doing? Guy? GUY!”

He stomps back down the street, still holding the thick wad of greens. He smiled, and turned his head, glancing back with a feverish grin. Her eyes were full of worry, with pity and sorrow. He knew what his looked like. It had no regrets. It had no self pity. The man quickened his steps, one, two, three then five, six, eight steps at once.

He hollered down the street, with his feet clamping down onto the pavement, “I’ll see you my love!”

The woman drew her hands right up to her face, up to her lips, for fear of his safety.

Little did she knew that she was the one in danger.

To be cont’d….

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