“Hello,” he said, and she bent over him to kiss his lips. He was usually very interested in sex in the time right after a job, but this one had used up his body for a while. Tomorrow, maybe. For now, while she kissed him, he simply leaned up and stroked her hair.
She straightened and looked at him, a quizzical smile on her face. “Something wrong?” She was tall and slender and good-looking, the way a fashion model is tall and slender and good-looking, but with more than the usual fashion model’s individuality in her face.
“I’m tired,” he said.
“Feel like telling me about it?”
“Sure.”
She pulled over a chair and sat down and he told her about it, and when he was done, she said, “All of that, and you didn’t even get the money. You must be disgusted.”
“I know where it is,” he said. He stretched, and the muscles were aching again. He’d have to go to bed soon, sleep for a while. “Some day I’ll go back and get it,” he said, and got up yawning, and the two of them went into the house.
The end.
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