shorts: the beach house
We thought we’d struck it rich, Ben and I. We figured no one would miss the money we found and we’d be able to retire and live in leisure. We actually started writing down all the ways we’d spend the money. Our first choice was
to move west and buy a beach house.
A big one with a bunch of windows and a private walk-out attached.
How naive we were. It seems silly now to have wished for such things after what we unearthed. There was never going to be a beach house, only survival.
You see, that the money we found belonged to some pretty bad people. Of course it did. I don’t know what we were thinking. Of course someone would be missing that money. But we were greedy and greed is like a poison. Once it’s in you, you only want more. No matter the consequences.
It was probably about a week before they found us. If only we had known, maybe we could have gotten away with it. If only we weren’t so focused on making a buck, maybe Ben would still be alive. He wouldn’t give the money back. He told them we’d already spent it in hopes that they’d give us time to pay them back. They didn’t like that so they shot him, right in front of me.
I have ten days to give the money back but that won’t be happening. Do you know what’s stronger than greed? Anger.
