Whim
A short story written in five minutes inspired by the word "Whim"
“So, which necklace do you want?”
“Mhm, I don’t know.”
“Honey, we’ve been here for almost thirty minutes. You know too, we gotta go now.”
“Hush, I don’t want to rush.”
“Maybe there’s nothing you really like.”
“No, no. It’s just that I can’t decide between the one with the sapphire and the one with the ruby. What do you think, sir?”
The clerk wiped the sweat off his brow with a handkerchief. “Both complement your complexion exquisitely, madam. But, maybe, the sapphire one?”
She didn’t seem convinced.
“Honey, we’ve been keeping this gentleman occupied for way more than is reasonable. What if we take both of them?”
“No, Pietro. I’d never know which one to wear. I want just one of them.”
The clerk sighed exhausted. Pietro shrugged sympathetically. Then, he had an idea and reassured him with a gesture of his hand.
“Honey,” started Pietro, “do you know what the sapphire reminds me of?”
“What?” asked the woman, intrigued.
“Our first job.”
She smiled. “Then, I’ll take that.”
Pietro nodded. In a glimpse, he transferred the remaining jewels in the sack while she wore the necklace. Guns at hand, they then ran out of the jewelry store.
At that point, the clerk felt allowed to faint.