The Magpie

Franki smiles.

The air smells of spring.

Her mind leaps forward to their next seaside trip. She mustn’t look forward to it, though, not until she’s confessed her deeds. Sometimes Jimmy looks at her as if he knows. Maybe he doesn’t want to know. Isn’t that why she hasn’t told him? Because she knows how Jimmy’ll react. How he must react. No, she cannot tell him.

‘Franki?’

Jimmy’s hand on her shoulder.

Franki smiles.

He looks ill and she realises how her hands have gone wandering along with her mind and that Jimmy’s in uniform and that the Magpie’s busted.

***

You’ll find Jonny’s side of the story on Visual Verse. Both stories owe thanks to yesterday’s Story A Day prompt: the pickpocket.

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