What this prompt is all about is opening a book to a random place and without looking point to a page. The word or words closest to the pointing finger is the prompt. I opened The Last Drive to page 67 and the word “glances” was closest to my finger.
Glances by John W. Howell © 2023
The thief glances sideways to check who is walking near the stylish young woman with the Goyard bag on her shoulder and clicking Louboutin heels. Satisfied there appears to be no superhero among the disinterested-looking crowd on 5th Avenue, the plan in his head is okay. A quick pass on the strap with a razor-sharp stiletto knife will cause the bag to slip toward the street. A fast pickup and he will probably be on his way before she realizes the purse is gone.
He takes a deep breath and pushes the button that releases the blade from the hilt. A momentary glint of the sun hitting the stainless edge of the blade reflects off the woman’s sunglasses. She glances his way, and he knows he must move fast. He is sure she will not put together the sun flair, and his intention on taking her bag. Comforted with this belief, he closes the slight distance between them with the knife concealed by his side. The strap is on her right shoulder, and since he is righthanded, he will have to make a cross-body movement that will end with an upward slash on the part of the strap near her back. The bag itself will drop, and he will need to grab it at almost the same time as the cut. If it hits the street, time will be lost picking it up, not to mention someone stepping on it.
The time has come, and he raises his hand to make his move. The woman senses his movement and glances over her shoulder. Her eyes lock onto his with enough strength he hesitates for a millisecond. His strike with the knife is off-target slightly, and the strap remains secure. The woman turns and, with the power of many hours spent with free weights and Tie Quan Do, connects her elbow with the man’s jaw. He hits the pavement like a prizefighter about to be counted out.
She stands over him, and a crowd begins to form. He opens his eyes and tries to speak. He is still confused after the blow to his chin. “Stay down,” the woman warns. He rests his head back on the concrete and glances to his right to confirm the noise of a winding down siren is from a police car on the street near him. The uniformed officer and EMS are intent on reaching him. The woman holds her bag with the almost cut strap for them to view.
He thinks about hoping they don’t find the knife and also thinks about the half-empty glass of luck that got him here. He wonders why an honest thief cannot count on beautiful women being helpless these days. The officer’s words come out of a haze, and he bearly hears the warning not to move. He wonders why the EMS guy keeps yelling, “Stay with me, buddy.” It is then that he realizes he has fallen on his knife. The word ‘petard’ flashes through his mind as all thoughts enter the dark.
