No Gonna Hide

Flash Fiction, suspense with a touch of humor.

It was NOT a dark and stormy night; it was windy and because of the wind gusts the rain that was falling appeared to be coming down in sheets.

Yes, thunder could be heard, way off in the distance, but the clouds overhead only allowed minor amounts of ambient light to get to the surface of Gino's surroundings.

Gino Gilberto had just stepped off his 4th Street Trolley when the wind hit him like a sumo wrestler. Swoosh, off he was taken by the force.

But his balance overcame it, so he righted himself as he steered his rather round body toward the doors he wanted to enter.

The doors were facing the street. They were tall, dark-oak, and had etched brass hardware. They were also fitted with emerald tinted and crystal glass in the viewing areas.

Luck, that impish vixen of unknown intentions, was not with Gino on this evening of drenching rain, no.

After Gino navigated the street and managed to set his size eleven patent-leather shoes upon the glistening surface of the well-maintained sidewalk, he was hit again. --- Swoosh!

Gino grabbed a porch railing and held on despite the fact that most of his attention was focused on the briefcase that he was carrying in the other hand. --- Alligator skinned, it was, with brass buckles and hinges.

There was a lock on the briefcase, too, but it certainly didn't match the other brass hardware, no, it was heat-treated steel; you could tell by the bluish tint on the surface of the metal.

Suddenly, someone wearing a light-gray trench-coat, and a Bowler Hat pulled down tight around his head, stepped from nearby shadows. And with a single stroke of that person's hand, the briefcase was gone.

Yes, in the blink of an eye, or with the speed of lightning, it was that quick. The briefcase was gone, snatched from Gino's fingers with not so much as a whisper between them.

The wind died down to a light, steady, breeze as Gino stood looking forlorn beneath his gold inlaid, hand crafted, porchlight.

The rain had reduced itself to a steady smattering as Gino sighed, then mumbled to himself, "Tax collectors, you can-ah run, but you no gonna hide."

11-04-2021

OK 2023