It was fabulously decadent, tiny diamonds covered the silk and a platinum clasp in the shape of an angel held the whole item together. Miranda stared into the cabinet, hardly daring to breathe. Her palms were sweaty she wanted it to stop - but wanted it to go on too. Her stomach danced with small flutters as she watched. From a corner of the room, however, a small spy camera watched her too. In a dark security room a fat man took the bejeweld purse she had secreted in her pocket and told her she would be going to prison. Then he left her. She sat all alone in the room, staring blankly at the dark walls that juxtaposed so acutely his fear and boredom. Water began to run down one wall, then the next, pooling in the uneven places of the floor. Somewhere, he knew, there would be birdsong like ribbons round leafbuds; here, only the dull croaking of imaginary toads.

THE END

By Jane.com and Andrew.co.uk on 19/05/09.

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