“Urgent delivery. He promised a generous tip if you make it in half hour.”
My day had been really shitty so far. The alarm had not rung, and despite getting dressed in record time, I had missed the bus. I was starving and cranky. I need cheering up. Like a generous tip!
I rushed to grab a bike.
But it simply wasn’t my day. I tripped, fell, twisted my ankle. No cycling for me. Shitty fortune continues!
Sam calls me next morning. “You lucky bastard,” he screams.
“My ankle hurts like a bitch. How is that lucky?”
“Andy made your delivery. Customer was a psycho. He shot him. Andy’s dead man.”
In response to Bikurgurl’s 100 Word Wednesday, week 35 prompt based on a photo by Zachary Staines