Taranto stepped out of the limousine and eyed the area with dismay. The old warehouse district had decayed something awful.
Thirty years ago, he was a kid loading trucks in that very warehouse.
Time changes everything. The ten years Taranto did in the slammer changed him too. He shared the feeling of decay. He shook his head slowly and walked toward the door. No matter. If the building is still standing, the money will still be where I hid it.
But Taranto did not know he was being watched…
Welcome to the Indies Unlimited Flash Fiction Challenge. In 250 words or less, write a Continue reading “Flash Fiction Challenge: Can’t Go Home”
