67. 50 word story

I can see the light under the door, I’m not stupid. This is so typical of her. I need to get it back, but of course, she locked the door. We’re already late. It’s mine, she knows it is. “Come on, come out.” No answer. Unbelievable, it’s my shirt anyway.

Poem
You’re the castle to my sand,
You’re the glove to my hand.

You’re the stars in my night sky,
You’re the wind that makes me fly.

You’ve the ink to my pen.
You’re the rooster, I’m the hen.



Short Story
They thought he was a policeman but then they saw he wasn’t wearing a uniform. He was holding a gun but he didn’t have a badge, well if he did, it wasn’t visible to them. He told them to slowly and calmly kneel down on the ground, closing their eyes hearing the heavy thudding footsteps by their heads. All of a sudden, one woman felt a tug at her handbag. The weight of the bag on her shoulder was lifted. The thudding of his feet quickened and quieted as the man ran away.