Picture 2
Miranda Kate’s Picture Choice: Both
Title: Pick-Up
When he saw the baskets, Fredrickson knew he’d found the right place. He pulled up in front of the white picket fence they were hanging from and left the old battered Chevrolet running while he jumped out.
No-one had told him which one to look in, so he took a cursory walk along the row trying to look nonchalant in this backwater town – although town was stretching it a little far really, there couldn’t be more than a couple hundred folks living here.
The higgledy-piggledy way the baskets had been slung across the fence made the concealed goods hard to spot at a quick glance, so Fredrickson strolled back again, this time catching a glimpse of white and paused, looking harder and seeing a rectangle.
Adrenaline pumped round his system and he glanced around, making sure the coast was clear. But nothing moved in this sun-baked corner of town, so he dipped a hand in and snatched up the package, walking away fast, back to the safety of his waiting car.
He climbed in, ignoring the grunts of the old vehicle, and the slight sputter as the rocking motion jolted the slow, rasping turnover of the engine. He stripped a piece of the wrapping back to expose the tight packed white brick, flicking open a pen knife he grabbed from the compartment next to the cigarette lighter, and scraping a line. He touched it to his lip to test it, and the familiar tingle was quick and strong, indicating high quality.
Fredrickson sat back and smiled to himself; this was going to give him the pay off he needed to finally get out of hock with the Grayson Brothers, and break free from the families once and for all. His dream of life on the islands just came a step closer; he could almost smell the sea air.
But he reminded himself to slow down. This was just stage one. First he had to make the deal and have it go smoothly.
Fredrickson packed the brick back into its wrapping and stuffed it gently into the recently cleaned glove compartment. Taking a deep breath he gunned the engine slightly, causing a burp from the exhaust, and pulled away from the curb. He was keen to leave this sleeping town and move onto the next stage. His thoughts were already thinking through the next rendezvous, this would be the ultimate test of his negotiation skills.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Like what you just read? Have a question or concern? Leave a note for the author! We appreciate your feedback!
You can read more of my writing on my blog - Finding Clarity - at http://purplequeennl.blogspot.nl/ or join me on Twitter @PurpleQueenNL
#DailyPicspiration
Ooh, intriguing
ReplyDelete