Writing Prompt: Dust Swirling Thud
Wishes of casual ease, no matter the weight, this weekend.
The metal container whined with strain as she casually lifted it by the corner.
“Oy!” the security officer called. She returned it to the ground with a barely audible thud. “Were you—lifting that container?”
Looking from the towering rusted corrugated bin, large enough to hold tons of contraband, back to the man nervously shifting in his uniform she gave a shrug and took a step back.
“Who, little o’ me? Couldn’t be.” The smile wasn’t convincing as a flood light illuminated dust swirling around her ankles like a sparkling fog.
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