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Rated: E · Fiction · Crime/Gangster · #2210704
Flash fiction
"The snow lays thick in the urals," whispered the guy in the dirty mac.

"Until the birds fly over the sun." The waiter placed a plate of salt fish on the table. "Who sent you?"

"Piotr the priest." The mac opened to reveal a body belt. "Have you got what he wants?"

"Have you the money?"

"Twenty thousand. Let me see it, then I pay." The waiter entered the restaurant. The salt fish was devoured hungrily. The empty plate was cleared by another waiter.

"Here." A carrier was handed over. Inside was the item Piotr had requested. "Money?"

"Here." A brown envelope came from the body belt. "Twenty thousand as agreed."

"I hope Piotr will enjoy his caviar."

"Shhhh. They'll all want some."

123 words
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