It all started at a small rural bank.
It was surrounded by a barren wasteland.
Beige dust swarmed around us.
We had a plan but we were never sure if it would work.
BANG!
A gun went off.
BANG!
Another shot.
Waiting in the car with a red handkerchief tied around my face, resting above my nose.
The engine quiet, soft silence.
My finger lingering over the keys for a quick getaway.
Alarms go off.
Big blarring alarms.
I see him.
He's walking out with two pillowcases filled with bills.
He starts bolting for the car.
I release the boot.
I stare at him through the side mirror.
He looks hot in a black balaclava.
The boot opens.
The car sinks.
The smell of money hitting my nose.
The boot slams shut.
He runs over to the passenger seat as I start the car.
The car door closes.
I can't help but look at him.
He's sweaty in his balaclava.
He itches to take it off.
He told me it chafes.
But he wears it anyway.
The tint of my sunglasses distorted my view of him.
Must drive away from the scene.
We committed a criminal act.
As we drive away we can still hear the alarms scream.
Screaming like they were set on fire.
They got distant.
Only the wind hitting my face from the open window.
The sound of his giggling filling my ears.
"We did it," he says excitedly.
The heist: successful.
