The wrong change

By IAN SANDS  |  February 11, 2009

Inside the flashing vehicle, the man sat for a full minute. He couldn't understand why he was so affected. He had experienced far more disturbing things while robbing banks. He once had to punch a male teller square in the face, for God's sake. But suddenly he wanted badly to return to the bank and tell the woman behind the counter his name. That he was 40 years old. That he had a twin he hadn't spoken to in five years. And that in private moments he entertained the idea of opening a pizza shop in the South End. He didn't do that, of course. Just drove off past the idiot, still clearing snow from his Volvo.

This is the fourth in an occasional series of small fictions based on casual observations.

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