Time Crunch

The hourglass comes into frame. The sand is spilling and time is running out.

The beach house will not be clear for long, there is only one chance to succeed.

The beach house, the key, the lock, the safe.

The coast is clear, time to enter. The window is left open, just a crack and just as planned.

The key is somewhere on the desk, in the second room from the left, under the paperweight…

No, not the paperweight, under the model yacht.

Pretentious.

The sand continues to spill.

There is a sudden noise outside, a creaking of wooden panels under footsteps, the turning of a doorknob.

Quick under the desk, out of sight.

The door opens.

There is a pause.

The yacht is out of place. A gun is drawn and cocked, then pointed around the room.

Sweat drips on the key placed on top of a palm, still under the desk.

The gun moves and searches around, but the key is taken secretly to the lock in the drape of night.

The key approaches the lock, the gun is out of view.

The key fumbles! And falls to the floor.

Echoes.

Should’ve learned to pick a lock.

Bang!