Greatest Heist of All Time

After the dirt flies, the haze lingers. The shovel reaches a foot deep. Two feet. Three feet… Out of breath, she wonders if the hole is deep enough.

...

Full tank. Mirrors level. Buckle up. Pedal to the metal! “Which way ya wanna take?” She doesn’t wait for a response. “No map?! No itinerary?!” She spits out loudly, somewhat bitterly, thinking of past trips and how uptight — She shakes the thought from her mind.

The familiar drive felt like forever. So many feelings flood her head, “What am I doing? WHAT! AM. I. DOING?”

While she wanted the difficulty in the moment to be over, part of her also didn’t want the moment to end. Would someone see her? Would she get caught? At that moment, she didn’t care. She knew she had to do this.

…

“This is it. This is the spot.” She quickly jogs through the trees and down the hill. She took what she needed from the car. Feeling heavier than ever, walking up the hill was harder and harder. The flashbacks overwhelmed.

She reaches the spot, sprinkling the ashes into the hole she dug.

THE GREATEST HEIST OF ALL TIME IS TIME ITSELF.