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Susie Shircliff, 08 Oct '12

Your cheek is connected to the cold even-tiled floor by the sticky sweat you’ve accumulated over the past three hours since the masked men entered the bank and waved their guns around until everyone was laying just like you are now.

You watch the suited man get pulled up by his lapel. It is the same man whose name you read on the plastic placard over and over again, while he shuffled your life papers on his desk in front of his smiling family’s white-turtleneck-portrait, taken on some beach.

The suited man sighed at you and dealt out the stock excuse: that it’s trying times for everyone and banks aren’t in the market for playing wild west games on unsteady loans.

When you hear them cock the gun, you shudder because you’re thinking that it’s not so bad, because when they take from the bank, what used to be your money; it will be with a primal brute force and not some tiny print on the back of a paper that denies you the right to even step close to the “Property of the Bank” sign next to the white mailbox holding your daughters recent acceptance letters to college.

Comments · 2

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  • Susie Shircliff said...

    Wanted to try out second person.

    • Posted 6 years ago
  • Jean Woest said...

    Great job on the second person. And excellent work in the first line. What an opener! It pulled me right in! :)

    • Posted 6 years ago