She ducked out of the path and the mirror behind her shattered into hundred shards.
Furious, at missing his mark, the savage charged at her. The splintered reflections pierced his soles as he slipped and hit his head on the ornamental chair edge. His limp body lay sprawled.
She was on the Interstate, richer by a million dollars transferred to her account, to a life sans bruises.
The cop’s siren sounding harsher by every nanosecond, her moist hands shivered on the steering. The shrill sped past her to become a dot in the distant.
She took a detour to freedom.
Written for : FRIDAY FICTIONEERS
Photo prompt : The Reclining Gentleman
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