The Residents of Magnolias Assisted-Living made up — Martha was sure of it — the worst band in Pickens County. That the police had not run them out of the park an hour ago was a miracle. She pulled the trumpet from her lips and strained to hear the sound of drilling beyond the din. She could not.
Fred caught her eye, tapped his watch, and mouthed “One more hour.”
Martha sighed and returned the trumpet to her lips. Drilling the bank’s vault was taking a lot longer than she had imagined it would. She closed her eyes and pictured herself tomorrow on a beach in Belize; sand squishing between her old toes; a Mai Tai in hand. She smiled and willed herself to play another hour.
An entry to this week’s Friday Fictioneers photo prompt. Enjoy! 😀