
The money, tucked in Tad's saddle bag, leaned against the tree Tad called “bed” tonight. He smirked. Easy job. He staked out the bank for weeks before the heist. Pulled it off alone. The money was his. He nodded, snoring softly.
Quiet Fox slit Tad's throat instantly. Leaving the saddle bag, he took Tad's scalp.
If you have written a Friday Flash 55 story that you would like to share, be sure to visit Galen at G-Man, Mr. Know It All and let him know! Have a happy-go-lucky weekend. Be fair. Donnetta










