(flash fiction)

Michael was running through bushes and keeping looking around. Although he shot a one cop, he was afraid that another would catch him up. Michael clutched the money bag and the smoking revolver. Worried, he sped up his run, but fell face down on the sand.

He looked up and saw outlines of the trailer behind thorny trees.

“Not bad place to hide,” Michael suggested.

Shaking off the sand, he picked up the bag of money and ran to the trailer.

Michael grabbed the sun-heated handle and quietly opened the door. He raised his revolver and took a few unsure steps into the darkness.

Silence was ringing in his ears and confusing him. Michael looked around the room and saw an old refrigerator with several cans of Coca-Cola on it. Turning to the left, he saw a working bench, and behind it there was a closed door.

Suddenly a double pipe appeared from this door.

“You picked the wrong house, fool!” the voice came from behind the door.

Michael got scared and dropped the revolver. He had started to pick it up, but the door opened abruptly and in front of him was a child silhouette with a rifle.

“Just try, and I’ll shoot all the shit out of your head!”

“Oh, boy, put the gun down,” Michael asked.

“Boy?” the voice was surprised.

The child silhouette stepped forward. The light from the window fell on him and a very old midget appeared. He was completely bald, his skin was in age spots and numerous wrinkles, and his face was covered with a prickly, like a Joshua tree, white beard.

“Do you imagine yourself Pecos Bill?… Get up!” the midget demanded.

Michael stood up carefully and raised his hands in front of himself. The midget was slowly approaching, and the uninvited guest was backing away. So, both of them reached the door.

“Get out of my home!” the shout burst out like an explosion.

With trembling hands, Michael opened the door and jumped out of the trailer.

“Freeze! LVPD!”

Several cops with guns surrounded Michael. With no chance to escape, he closed his eyes and raised his hands up.