Getaway

“Where’s the closest grocery store?”

The kookily dressed lady leaned in towards the car window, hunching under the bright orange umbrella that kept her hidden and sheltered from the blistering sun.

The friendly woman in the passenger seat muttered a few directions as police sirens blared faintly in the background.

“Thank you,” the lady said with a smile.

It was her last day at the bank and there was a large amount of cash stashed in her battered roomy handbags.

Nobody would suspect the little old lady of it as she crossed the street, dancing to her own beat.