The conversation lasted two words.
Technically, it was a conversation. One person said something; another responded. But more was said without the need of words. The hands in the air, the eyes darting back and forth in faces tense with anxiety and fear. The shadows cast through the translucent blinds by the red and blue shimmering lights of the police cars. And the gunman’s grip on the revolver he pointed at the hostages: the bank manager, the tellers, the patrons.
The robber pointed the gun at the woman he’d sworn to love ’til death do them part. Trembling, her hands raised, she nodded, glancing again at the slit between the blinds behind her husband. He’d known, they’d both known this moment was coming. “When?” he said.
The shadow behind him moved. “Now,” she answered.
*This was originally written for the text prompt, “The conversation lasted two words,” at the six minute story site, but I cheated again and took longer than six minutes!