Bill entered the office and hurried towards Martin’s desk. He shuffled his feet awkwardly and waited. From the look in Martin’s eyes he knew that the invitation to sit would not be forthcoming.
“Did you find the plane wreck?”
“I sure did boss.”
“I took a close up, just like you asked.”
He slid the photo over the desk, and smiled.
“It was as you suspected”, he added, with a wry smile.
“Definitely Tom’s work. He even left his trademark heart.”
Bill tapped rhythmically on the photo for emphasis.
Martin waved Bill back towards the door dismissively and once he was out of earshot, he grabbed the phone.
“Tom, come up to my office right away, you’ve got some explaining to do,” he grunted.
From the depths of the third basement Tom looked away from his handset and thought hard.
It must be that damn plane.
He’d picked it clean; 121 watches, $563 in coins and 43 pieces of Jewellery.
He should have just destroyed the plane into dust and rubble but he was too giddy from the value of his haul.
Plus he was a cheeky bastard.
It wasn’t looking good at all.
Sunday Photo Fiction is a weekly Flash Fiction Challenge. The challenge is to write a story based upon the photo in 200 words or less.
The feature photo of this post was taken during my tandem SkyDive in June 2015.