Tuesday 2 April 2013

The Suitcase



This story has three endings. Read part one and then make a decision. If you prefer stark choices, read version 1 or 3, if you prefer light and fluffy go straight to version 2 

If you fancy listening to the story you can too. Click here 



It was as he travelled home from prison that Dave had had the idea to steal suitcases from trains.
It was so obvious he wondered why he hadn’t done it before. People got on trains and left their worldly possessions at the end of the carriage, unprotected and unguarded in luggage racks; an open invitation to someone like him. All he had to do was pick one, get off the train and then leg it.
So two days later he did exactly that and now he was in his living room like a kid before Christmas, waiting to open the present before him.
Dave smashed the lock one last time with the hammer. He put extra effort in and this time it shattered into pieces; he was in. He hurriedly, excitedly unzipped the bag. Surely it would be full of clothes or valuables, something he could sell so he could buy the magic potion he’d been longing for.

At this point decide if you want version 1,  version 2 or version 3

Version 1
Once unzipped he couldn’t believe his eyes.
Dave was no expert but he was pretty sure he was looking at a bomb. He had no idea if it was primed but he felt pretty sick at the thought that he had been hammering 7 kinds of shit out of the lock just seconds before.
Now Dave had a problem, he had options but none of them were pleasant.
He knew he should phone the police tell them, but he was out on parole and that fact coupled with his record meant they’d chuck him back inside and throw away the key.
His other option was to dispose of the bomb. But that was easier said than done. What if it exploded?  It might kill someone; that would make him a murderer. Even if it didn’t explode someone might see him, then the police would come looking for him. Either way the police would never believe he’d stolen the bomb, they’d lock him up as a terrorist, a bomb maker, a killer. Whatever the decision he was facing a long time in prison.


Dave didn't want to go back to prison, on the outside he was a crook but on the inside he was a victim. On the outside his ratty features and slim frame made him the perfect parasite but in gaol it made him the bully's go to guy. Also could he cope without that amber nectar flowing through his veins? 

There was of course a third option available to Dave, one that would help him escape this spiral of crime his life had become. One that would spare him the trauma of going back inside. He weighed up the three alternatives, picked up the hammer and, in one deft movement, blew all his problems away.

Version 2 
Once unzipped he couldn’t believe his eyes.
The case was jam-packed full of sandwiches, home made sandwiches wrapped in cling film. There was white bread, brown bread and what looked like wholemeal. Some were cheese, some ham and some looked like cheese and ham, Dave even thought he saw some jam ones there. They’d all been cut diagonally and wrapped in twos. There must have been 200 little packets maybe more. Dave looked at them and scratched his head in disbelief. It looked like one of those drugs busts from the airport programmes on TV, but this was a suitcase full of snacks not smack. Questions swam through his mind. Had he really risked getting re-arrested for a case full of sarnies? Why on earth was someone carrying this many sandwiches in the first place and why in a suitcase? The big question though was could he make any money from them? He picked one up, cheese and ham, unwrapped it and took a bite. It was good, Warburton’s bread he reckoned and nice mature cheese, the ham was rich – off the bone stuff not processed muck and there was a little bit of pickle to add a kick.

As if kickstarted by the pickle Dave had an idea. He had nothing in his freezer, he could freeze them all and then live off them for the next month. That meant all his dole money could be used to buy gear. Dave smiled to himself as he took another bite of the sandwich. Who said crime doesn’t pay?


Version 3 - Note this starts the same way as version 1.


Once unzipped he couldn’t believe his eyes.
Dave was no expert but he was pretty sure he was looking at a bomb. He had no idea if it was primed but he felt pretty sick at the thought that he had been hammering 7 kinds of shit out of the lock just seconds before.
Now Dave had a problem, he had options but none of them were pleasant.
He knew he should phone the police tell them, but he was out on parole and that fact coupled with his record meant they’d chuck him back inside and throw away the key.
His other option was to dispose of the bomb. But that was easy said than done. What if it exploded?  It might kill someone; that would make him a murderer. Even if it didn’t explode someone might see him, then the police would come looking for him. Either way the police would never believe he’d stolen the bomb, they’d lock him up as a terrorist, a bomb maker, a killer. Whatever the decision he was facing a long time in prison.

Just then Dave stopped thinking, in fact he stopped breathing, to be honest he stopped living all together, so did his neighbours and their cat. Car alarms rang along the streets, dogs barked and people screamed above the sound of glass shattering. 

When George had realised that his suitcase was missing he panicked. That wasn't in the plan. That wasn't going to get him the promotion in the Party he'd been promised if he'd carried out the attack successfully.  There was only one thing to do, he took his phone out, found the message and hit send. He knew that 30 seconds later someone in the Newport area was in for the shock of their theiving lives. 


Which version do you like best? Vote here. The Vote is now closed. 

1 comment:

  1. Love the third ending! great twist of action:)

    ReplyDelete