Monday March 30th, 2015

The exercise:

Write about: the deposit.

Took some time this morning to get a few blossom pictures around the orchard. These, I believe, are peach blossoms (with an outside chance of them being nectarine blossoms):


And this is one of my plum blossom shots:


I'm basically sold on the new camera, I'm just delaying for no good reason at this point. I expect I'll have purchased it within the next couple of days now.

Most of the afternoon was spent with Max at his favorite park. Other than his complete lack of enjoyment of transitioning from one activity to the next, it was generally a good day for him.

Tomorrow is Kat's birthday, so I'm planning on cooking her dinner and spoiling her as much as possible.

Mine:

The weight of the briefcase in my right hand feels like a lead ball. It slows me down, and hauling it around is exhausting. I know I can't keep it much longer. Dropping it and making a run for it is desperately tempting, but that would be tantamount to suicide.

So that's why I'm here. I guess. I wish it was somebody else, but they picked me. And there's no saying no to these people.

Still, I wish they'd gone with someone a little more experienced with this sort of thing.

This suit doesn't feel like mine. Like it was made for someone just a little bigger than me. Which makes sense, seeing as it's a rental. It's just that it's making me feel even more like a fraud, and that's not helping me. At all.

The last person in line in front of me disappears and suddenly I'm next. I concentrate on remembering to breath. And not dropping the briefcase. Act casual. Like I do this sort of thing every day. Like the money I'm carrying is mine. Like... okay, I'm focusing on too many things now.

Okay, I'm up. I can do this.

"Hello," the teller says with a generic smile. "How can I help you today?"

"I need to make a deposit." Good. Steady voice. Solid eye contact. Doing well. "There's, uh... not like, a maximum amount of... uh, cash... that I can do... that... with, right?"

Bloody hell.

2 Comments:

Greg said...

The blue sky really sets off the blossom shots nicely, I can see why you're pleased with them! I prefer the plum blossom shot myself, but I think that's because it's a more tightly-composed photograph than there being anything wrong with the other one.
An early happy birthday to Kat then, and I hope she enjoys your cooking.... :-P
I loved the last line of your prose today, that's just such a superb way to embarrass yourself and make the teller wonder what you've been up to acquire all that money! Still, I'm sure when your narrator explains that he's just a record industry executive all the guards will stand down and the police go back home :)

The deposit
Felicia Herpes, world-class poisoner and amateur detective stood in the middle of the bank floor and gazed around her with cruel eyes sunk deep in a lined face. The floor was white marble where is wasn't spattered with blood, and there were little brass pillars supporting velvet ropes to gently guide customers either to the tellers or to the desks of bank officials who would break the bad news that their accounts were no longer welcome. A body lay in the pool of blood, and behind her a policewoman hovered, holding a cup of Starbucks coffee.
"Well, that's not the murder victim," said Felicia, pointing to the body in the pool of blood. "They're somewhere else."
"Don't be ridiculous," huffed the policewoman. She sipped from her coffee, wincing at the bitter taste. "Of course that's the victim."
"Nope," said Felicia, smiling pleasantly. "That body was poisoned. Not exsanguinated."
"Exsangi-what?"
"Exsanguinated. Drained of blood."
"How can you know that?" The policewoman's expression was honest and met Felicia's eyes briefly before looking away.
"Because she's Miss Herpes," said a jovial voice behind them both. They turned, to see the Coroner's assistant bumbling over to them. "She knows more about poisons than Crippen. And apart from that, I've examined that body and there's no wounds on it. It couldn't have bled that much."
"Well!" The policewoman huffed again and sipped her coffee. "And now I have a headache!" She turned and stalked off to a marble bench to sit down. The Coroner's assistant raised an eyebrow, and Felicia sighed.
"I think she's probably added warfarin to her coffee by mistake," she said. "They'll have had rat traps in Starbucks...."
"Not by the sugar counter," said the Coroner's assistant. "Anyway, so where's the bleeder?"
"Deposited, I think," said Felicia. "Note that the blood reaches the wall over there – I don't think that's splatter. I think someone crammed the bleeder into the night deposit safe and deposited them. I think that's where the blood has come from, and that this guy –" she kicked the poisoned corpse, "– was cleaning up."
"Three dead and it's only 10am," said the Coroner's assistant as the policewoman fell off the bench.

Marc said...

Greg - thanks! Yeah, the plum blossoms shot definitely has better composition - I just like the colors of the other one as well.

Felicia is a fun and interesting character. I hope to see some more from her... but then, I think I say that about all the characters you introduce to us here :P