There was only that one chance. The crowds were thick enough to create a diversion and grab it. The money bag lay idle in the counter, so it would be enough for a fire alarm to cause a small panic, stretch the arm, grab the dough and make a run for the door. The only obstacle would be the guard at the door, a buffy looking security agent who seemed in love with his job. He had the handcuffs in plain view, as well as a can of pepper spray and a mean looking baton, which he caressed with his left hand like a cat owner would his pet. Just then a scanty clad dame popped in distracting the buffy looking guy who was being a gentleman by pointing her to somewhere as they walked together a bit. Gary saw his chance and walked towards the book section and stopped near the emergency fire alarm, pulled it and started to walk fastly towards the counter so as not to raise suspicions. At the sound of the alarm everyone became disconcerted and moved quickly to get the heck out of there. Gary grabbed the dough just when the clerk was trying to figure out what was happening and made a dash for the door. He ran as fast as he could.

Ernest didn’t feel like opening that can of beer, he had enough, really enough of his drudge monotony. Nearly fed up with the daily drinking. So he picked up his keys, put his jacket on, checked that the radio was off and he left his flat. Down the elevator, he came across a neighbor he was pissed at so he just gave him looks that killed, and then proceeded to say hi to the first passerby he met. 9pm and he smelled the city, it smelled like popcorn does at the movies except that it was drizzling. So he kept walking, destination unknown thinking that maybe it was time to pay a visit to an old girlfriend of his. On the way there he found a wet quarter, picked it up and started to flip it up in the air. Should he walk there and see her or should he take a cab? Should he just drop by or should he announce his visit?

Olga was in the mood for some shopping. She donned a miniskirt, and a shirt that fit like a glove marking her voluptuous body at every curve. The stiletto high heel shoes put the extra touch in a very nice outfit. Looking outside the window she noticed some small rain drops in her pane. She grabbed an umbrella just in case her hairdo came into danger. Looking one last time in the mirror, she checked her deep red lipstick color in her lips.

The weather was grey and the city noises was a mishmash of screams, crying and yelling with that of cars passing by and a police car with its siren still on. The ambulances had the siren lights on, resembling a death disco of sorts. To the left of the sidewalk bundles of money and shiny coins were scattered across it, were curious onlookers stared, waiting, like vultures, for a distraction from the only police car to have arrived at the scene of the accident. Some handcuffs lay strewn on the street, and a security guard sat by the sidewalk with a bruised head and what seemed to be blood running from his nose, dripping down to the wet asphalt. Two bodies were being attended by medics and one was already being carried inside the ambulance in what seemed to be an unconscious state. The other body, a female, had some red lipstick smeared in her face and a miniskirt displaying fine long looking legs and some broken high heel shoes. She was being pumped air and an inyection glared all the lights that the city could reflect on its metal needle that moment.