Closes at Midnight

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This short story is written for Sunday Photo Fiction.

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Photo Credit: Terri Smeigh

He knew the restaurant closed at midnight. It said so on the sign on the front door. He knew that for a fact because he had spent the last two nights across the street observing that even if there were no customers the place closed promptly at midnight.

Tonight would be a busy night. There should be plenty of cash on hand. He knew they did not have a safe because he used to work there. Once he entered the place he knew he would not have much time to accomplish his mission.

He waited until tonight because he knew Karl would be closing the place.  Karl his previous manager. Karl who had fired him. Karl the prick. Karl needed to die. It was payback time. Karl would not make the next opening of the store. He hoped there would be no collateral damage.

Look out Karl he said to himself as he waited patiently in the parking lot as the sun went down. It would be worth the wait. Thoughts of how Karl would die drifted through his mind as he fell as he into a deep sleep.

Suddenly there was a knock on his car door.

The Last Lap

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16

This post is written for Friday Fictioneers.

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PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Light was fading fast outside when the terrible thing happened.

“How long was he in the water before you found him.”

“Not more than 15 minutes inspector” answered Erick. “I saw him on my last round.“

“No witnesses I assume?”

“He always swam late at night and always alone. Except last night.”

“Except last night Erick? Who was with him last night.”

“It was a lady. There were lots of laughs and horseplay. Then I heard angry shouts and then silence.”

“Erick, do you think he was having an argument with his wife.”

“Inspector, I know one thing. It wasn’t his wife.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Waiting For The End

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47

This post is submitted to Friday Fictioneers.

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PHOTO PROMPT © Jean L. Hays

It was a cold March day. Patches of snow still remained from the harsh winter. That was nothing new here in the desolate southwest desert. Living conditions were hostile for plant and animal life. The lack of vegetation had exposed the the ground to extreme denudation.

Dirk had made this his home for the past three years. Existing on trash thrown from passing vehicles on the nearby highway or occasional forays four miles away at the interstate exit where the giant green dumpsters were like dining at five star restaurants for him. The end was near and he knew it.