By Janni Lee Simner.
Read by Jonathon Sullivan.
All stories by Janni Lee Simner
All stories read by Jonathon Sullivan.
The man opens his hand, the one that’s been in his pocket all this time. A shiny brass bottle lies there, small in his large palm. A band of flowery, unreadable lettering is etched just beneath the narrow neck. Otherwise the surface is flawless: no dents, no scratches, no dirt.
My hands tremble; my heart pounds so loud I have trouble thinking. That’s the real thing he’s holding, no doubt about it. He might still be a cop. But I flip into park, and roll the window down.
Rated PG. Contains some profanity, vehicular violence, and poor judgment.