Short Flash Fiction Tales

Pawn Shop

Jimmy unbuckled his watch, slapping it to the worn countertop. “How much is it worth?”

“Well, now that all depends…” The creases in the shopkeeper’s leathery face deepened as he considered the man before him.

“On what?”

“On what I feel like offering.”

Jimmy’s eyes narrowed. “So how much is that?”

“One dollar.”

“Funny.”

“I thought so.”

Jimmy shifted uncomfortably. “Seriously. How much?”

The shopkeeper leaned back. “One. Dollar.”

Jimmy’s smile disappeared. “Not funny anymore.”

“I thought so.”

Jimmy’s cheeks reddened. “Why a dollar?”

“Because you’re desperate.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Only two types of men do what you just did: desperate and stupid.”

Jimmy frowned, taking a menacing step forward. “Watch it, grandpa. Want me to rearrange your face?”

“Isn’t that what your friends are for?”

“What?!” Jimmy’s anger drained away. He looked nervous.

“That was your plan, wasn’t it? Get me to open up the cash drawer, then have them boys in the car come and take it?”

“No.” The prevarication quivered Jimmy’s lips. He cast a worried glance at the running car outside.

“You’re a bad liar, boy.”

“I’m not lying!”

“And I don’t have a shotgun in my hand,” the shopkeeper laughed. For the first time, Jimmy noticed that the other man’s hands were below the counter, below his line of sight.

“A dollar, you said?”

“That’s right.”

“O-okay then.”

“Wise decision.” The shopkeeper nodded, fingers dipping into his pocket. He flung a $1 bill to the counter, hand quickly dropping out of sight once again.

Jimmy grabbed the dollar and hustled out of the shop. A moment later, squealing tires announced his departure.

The shopkeeper picked up the watch, dangling it before his eyes. “Swiss. Nice.”

He set the object in his other hand on the counter⁠. It was a lockbox full of cash.

300 words