A kidnapping

A snippet from the 1500 words this afternoon.

“An afternoon thunderstorm left the evening uncomfortably muggy as Mopsy waited for the jitney. Her feet hurt so she leaned against a lamppost. A gorilla wondered out of Monyet’s 5&10 to stand nearby, apparently waiting for the jitney.

Joe was hired muscle, and he was good at it. He like breaking kneecaps. Kidnapping wasn’t his thing, but the bookie needed to be cashed out, hard. Someone wanted this middle aged florist, and for the money offered, the Gorilla Bridge gang didn’t ask why.

While the jitneys didn’t run on any schedule, they came around roughly a couple times an hour. A glance at the corner bank clock told her the nickel car was almost 20 minutes later than usual.
In a few more minutes the jitney, a 1923 Onyx, came around the corner. Its lights flashed as it pulled to the curb.

The kidnapping was over in a second. One minute Mopsy was there looking for a nickel, leaning against the lamppost and then she was gone. No-one saw a thing, no-one heard her muffled scream, no-one was alarmed in any way.”

Thanks for reading,

Ernest

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