Left Holding the Bag

Walking down the broken sidewalk, I tripped over a brown bag. Not like a lunch sack, an expensive leather bag. I busted-up my knee falling over it. I figured it was just sitting there on the walk and so was I, for at least another five minutes, I might as well check it out.  I unzipped it to find several rosy shades of soft, lacy lingerie. It was a bit on the hefty side to contain only nighties. I shuffled through them to discover a very black Springfield .40 XDSub-Compact. Continue reading