Word: wrest

wrest


\ rest \ , verb;

1. to take away by force: to wrest a knife from a child.

2. to twist or turn; pull, jerk, or force by a violent twist.

3. to get by effort: to wrest a living from the soil.

4. to twist or turn from the proper course, application, use, meaning, or the like; wrench.

noun:

1. a wresting; twist or wrench.

2. a key or small wrench for tuning stringed musical instruments, as the harp or piano, by turning the pins to which the strings are fastened.

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The black clothed mugger advanced menacingly on the young lady, who clutched her purse to her chest like it was child. Her eyes were wide with fear as she looked at the knife her assailant held in front of him. An ear piercing scream left her mouth, a call of desperation for any kind of aid.

“Scream all you want lady, nobody’s gonna help you.” The mugger said, even as he eyed his prize hungrily. He stopped dead in his tracks, as if waiting for something to happen. “I said,” He said in a slightly louder voice, “Scream all you want lady, nobody’s gonna help you!” He made sure to clearly pronounce every word. Then he waited, looking at building to his left.

“Cut!” Came the call. The ‘mugger’ slumped his shoulders and groaned as the ‘victim’ pulled out a pair of large rimmed glasses out of her purse and slid them onto her face.

“Were’s Mike? Why isn’t he ready to go?” Asked Greg, the director of the little film being shot.

“I don’t know, the last I saw him he was ready to go.” Lucy, the ‘victim’ said

“Knowing him, he’s probably off chasing birds or something.” Jack, the sound guy, said. Greg held his head in his hands and groaned. This was not the first time this had happened. The group of high school filmmakers had a somewhat limited pool of talent to choose from for any kind of movie they wanted to shoot, and Mike was the only one that was even remotely good looking enough to play the role of the protagonist in their latest work. Unfortunately, he was easily distracted.

“Sorry, sorry!” Mike said, running up to the simply constructed set, panting for breath once he got there.

“Where were you?” Greg asked.

“I bet he was chasing butterflies again.” Fred, the ‘mugger’ said, snickering at his own joke.

“I was not!” Mike said defensively, “It was a bee.” He finished, as if that made it all better.

“Why were you chasing a bee?” Lucy asked.

“Why wouldn’t I? They’re amazing little creatures.” Mike said.

“If you get stung, I swear I’m just gonna sit there and laugh.” Fred said.

“Oh that’s not likely to happen.” Mike said matter of factly, “Bees only sting in either self defense or to protect the hive. As long as you leave them alone, you can go right up to them and they’ll just ignore you.”

“Yeah, yeah, who cares.” Greg said with pure annoyance coloring his voice, “Just get in position. We’ll take it from Fred’s line. And try not to get distracted this time.”

“Yes, sir!” Mike said, throwing up a crisp salute. He went behind the plywood ally and climbed a ladder that would allow him to ‘swoop in’ on the waiting criminal.

“Um, before we start,” Lucy said timidly, “Can I keep my glasses on? I kind of need them to see.”

“We’ve been over this. You’re character doesn’t wear glasses.” Greg said. He rubbed his forehead in frustration. He could swear that the people he was working with would drive him to an early grave, and he was only seventeen.

“But why can’t you just change it? Besides, I look cute in glasses.” She said, trying to act as cute as possible. The boys looked at her, judging whether or not she was right.

“She’s right, she does.” Jack said. He shouldered his improvised boom mike, which was simply a normal microphone that had attached to a long stick with way too much duct tape.

“Ok, fine. Leave ‘em on. I guess it doesn’t really matter anyway.” Greg said. He didn’t want to admit it, but he did have to admit she was one of those rare people who looked better with glasses than without. “Now, any other problems?” he asked. Mike looked like he was getting lost in a passing cloud, so he had to start this back up now while the leading man was still paying some kind of attention. He went back to the small camcorder on a tripod and called to the actors, “Ok, places people! And…action!” He called out.

“Scream all you want lady, nobody’s gonna help you.” The mugger said, advancing on his hapless victim. His knife (a broken plastic knife handle with tin foil arranged in a rough blade shape) glinted in the light as he moved.

“Think again!” Came a voice from high above them. Both mugger and victim looked up to see who had spoken. A man in a red outfit stood on a nearby fire escape (the ladder with a few plastic bars draped across it). A bright yellow E (done up in cheap fabric paint) Shone on his chest, each of the three arms of the letter looking like a bolt of lightning. He jumped, seeming to float down to the ground (you could hardly even see the fish line that was used instead of ropes!)

“Who do you think you are? Some kind of hero?” The mugger asked in disbelief.

“That’s exactly who I am!” the costumed man said.

The mugger rushed at the red clad do-gooder with his knife poised for an overhead thrust. The man easily caught the muggers hand and wrested the knife from it. He cast it to the ground with a clatter (to be added later). The mugger backed off, holding his hand as if it was in pain. He snarled and rushed at the hero, aiming to land a solid blow to his chin. The hero stood proudly and reared his hand back. The victim saw a faint light flicker over his fingers (also to be added later), and regarded her savior with awe. The costumed man used his reared back fist to deliver a powerful blow to the mugger’s face (it even looked real thanks to the miracle of good camera angles). The hapless crook fell to the ground and rolled on the ground, twitching and convulsing like he had been hit by a powerful electric shock (or at least Fred’s best guess to that regard) before finally lying still.

“Are you alright miss?” The hero said, flashing a bright smile her way.

“O-oh yes, I’m fine.” She said with a dreamy smile on her face (she was thinking of kittens to help her out with that one).

“Good. Well then, be careful going home.” The hero said, backing off a bit and crouching down.

“Wait!” The victim said, calling out to her savior. He looked at her quizzically.

“Who are you exactly?” She asked.

“Just call me Electrus.” He said, and leapt up into the air (hoisted up by a mechanical pulley they had bought), leaving the girl alone in the ally to gather her thoughts.

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Support an amateur film maker today, since they'll become the major film makers of tomorrow. And hey, sometimes they make stuff that can be entertaining in their own unique ways.

As a side note, this was actually supposed to be up yesterday.  But a nasty little error message kept me from doing so.  So, I'm posting it today instead, yay!

Word: qualm

 

qualm

\ kwahm, kwawm \  , noun;

1. an uneasy feeling or pang of conscience as to conduct; compunction: He has no qualms about lying.

2. a sudden feeling of apprehensive uneasiness; misgiving:  a sudden qualm about the success of the venture.

3. a sudden sensation or onset of faintness or illness, especially of nausea.

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                “I don’t like this Moe.  I mean, what if we get caught?”  Said a tall, lanky man.

                “I’ve told you, we’re not gonna get caught.  I’ve got everything ready.”  Said the stocky man called Moe.

                “B-but…”
                “If you’re really so scared, then go home.  I’ve got it all under control.”  Moe said as he fished a small card from his pocket and slid it through a card reader attached to a door marked “employees only”.

                “I know what you said, but still.  I’ve just got a real bad feeling about this.”

                “Look, Larry, you said you wanted to do this, so you’re doing it.”

                “But stealing something like this?  I mean, we’re not talking a few years in jail here.  We could get twenty plus for this.”  Larry said, casting his eyes around nervously. 

                “Well then, don’t think of it as stealing.  Think of it as payment for years of valuable service.”  Moe said as he slowly and quietly opened the door.

                “I don’t think our bosses will think that way.”  He said as his partner entered the dark corridor.  Despite his misgivings about the planned theft, he still followed. 

                The two were security guards at a museum, and had been for many years.  That is, until the layoffs started.  Since Moe and Larry were the first ones hired, they were the first ones fired, and were currently working under two weeks notice.  Moe had not taken too kindly to that, and had come up with a plan for the two of them to steal a rather valuable artifact.  Even with Moe having no qualms about such a theft, Larry had only agreed out of an odd sense of comradery , and had serious problems with the crime.

                “Yeah well, screw them.  They don’t want us anymore, so who cares what they think, right?” 

                “You know they’ll know it was us, right?  I mean all they have to do is look at the entry records and see your card and password being used.”

                “I’m not using my card.  I’ll be using Tony’s stuff for this one.  All the blame will be on him.”  Moe said with a sneer plastered on his face.  Tony was the newest addition to the security staff, hired just before the layoffs started.  He was, to put it bluntly, a total jerk.  While he was very good at his job, he loved nothing more than to lord that fact over anyone else.  Needless to say, he had made few friends, and nobody would really regret seeing him take the blame for the theft.  Moe had decided to use his ID for this reason.  Plus, he wanted a bit of personal revenge on the new guy as well.  Tony had insisted on comparing Moe and Larry to two other, more famous individuals with the same name, even though that was the only similarity. 

                “But when he tells people that his stuff was stolen…”

                “He won’t notice.  I’m using his backup card, and he had no idea that I know his passwords.  Now come on, here’s the security office.”  Moe said, again sliding the stolen card through the card reader next to the door labeled “security”.

                The door opened silently and the two men entered the small, dark room.  The room was the hub for the security of the museum.  Every camera, every security measure, every detail of the place went through this room at one point, and both the men knew every detail of it. 

                “Ok, you wire the cams, I’ll take care of the other stuff.”  Moe said, pressing a small object into Larry’s hand.  It was a small device that was used to store data, and could be hooked up to other viewing devices for later playback.  This particular model had a recording of the museum’s night time security feed on it. 

                Larry gulped and went over to the computer that stored the recordings from the many, many security cameras scattered around the building.  He plugged the device into the computer and waited, looking nervously at the monitors.  Soon, a small jump in the footage appeared on the screens, and Larry knew that the pre-recorded footage had taken over.  They could move about the place without any fear of being picked up on camera. 

                “O-ok, I’m done.”  Larry said nervously.  Moe was busy typing on another computer.  It was one that controlled a few other security measures.  These were mostly laser detectors, but a few pressure pads, heat sensors, and other assorted devices were scattered around as well.  Moe was in the process of turning them all off.  After a few minutes of messing with the security of the museum, he stood up.

                “Alright, that’s taken care of.  Let’s go.”  He said, confident that the two would be able to pull the heist off, no matter what his partner thought.

                Sure enough, they were able to move around the place without tripping a single one of the hidden security devices.  They walked through the dark hallways, using nothing but flashlights to light their paths.  Moe strode ahead, confident that he had done his job well.  Larry on the other hand, jumped at even the slightest sound that echoed through the empty building, even if those sounds came from their own feet. 

                “Would you stop acting like a little kid?”  Moe said as they approached their goal, “Look, I told you, nothing bad’s gonna happen.  We’ve taken care of everything.  All we gotta do is take the thing, get our stuff, and go.”

                “I know, I know.  But still, I can’t help it.”

                “Yeah, yeah.  Just stop being so…fidgety.  There it is now.”  Moe said, shining his flashlight on the item they had set their sights on.  It was a crown from an old civilization, neither of the men knew nor cared which one.  But the thing was made of gold and had three rather large gemstones set into it.  It was worth more than either had made in all the years working at the museum combined.    

                Moe approached the case it was in slowly as Larry did his best to keep an eye out for any problems.  He carefully opened the latches that held the thick glass case to the stand it was on and lifted it off.  Setting the glass case aside, he retrieved the crown and looked at it with awe, not so much because of how beautiful it was, but more because of what it represented to him. 

                “Hey Moe, let’s get out of here now, ok?”  Larry said, bringing the other man back to his senses.  Moe nodded his agreement, put the crown in a leather bag he was hold, replaced the glass casing, and made his way back to the security office.  Larry followed behind like a dog, more nervous now than ever before.  Had they been caught before taking the crown, they could make up some story about taking one last look around the place before leaving.  But now that they had it in their possession, they had nothing to say that could save them from doing jail time.

                The two men got back to the office without any problems.  Larry unhooked the storage device, allowing the cameras to record what was actually happening in the museum as Larry turned the security devices back on.  The two men made their way out of the building as silently as they could.  Once out, they slinked off the grounds and onto the much better lit city streets.

                “See that, no sweat.”  Moe said, proud of what they had accomplished.  “Now all we gotta do is remember our stories.  We act surprised at the thing going missing, and promise to help out as much as we can, and they won’t suspect a thing.”

                “Y-yeah, sure.  I remember.”  Larry said, still more than a little unsure of himself.  “B-but what do we do now?”

                “Now?  That’s easy.  Now we find out how much this thing is worth, and life the rest of our lives on easy street.”  Moe said, triumphantly walking off into the night, leaving Larry to think about the many ways things could go wrong.

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For greater effect, play the Pink Panther theme song while reading this story.  Or if you don't like that, some other appropriate crime show/movie theme might work too.

Word: prolepsis

 

prolepsis

\ proh-LEP-sis \  , noun;

1. Rhetoric.  the anticipation of possible objections in order to answer them in advance.

2. the assigning of a person, event, etc., to a period earlier than the actual one; the representation of something in the future as if it already existed or had occurred; prochronism.

3. the use of a descriptive word in anticipation of its becoming applicable.

4. a fundamental conception or assumption in Epicureanism or Stoicism arising spontaneously in the mind without conscious reflection; thought provoked by sense perception.

5. Pathology.  the return of an attack of a periodic disease or of a paroxysm before the expected time or at progressively shorter intervals.

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                Jeff did his best to suppress a snicker at his classmates flustered face.  The poor guy thought it would be a good idea to enter into a debate with the one person who it was quite simply impossible to beat in one.

                His English Lit class was having a discussion on the book they were currently reading, and as usually happened, what started as a discussion for the entire class soon became a debate between two students.

                One of them was a guy named Henry.  He was considered one of the smarter students and his voice was one of those that were heard frequently in such classroom discussions, and he was usually very difficult to argue with.  Most students felt that the only way to beat him in an argument was to know what he was going to say before he said it.

                The thing was, this time his opponent actually did know what he was going to say beforehand.  Being an Oracle, his opponent, Violet, really did know every word Henry was going to say.  It was likely that she knew before class had even started.

                “Yes, but on page 175, we can clearly see that the protagonist regrets his decision.”  Henry said, grasping at any straw he still could.

                “Yes, but two pages later, he goes back on that sentiment, in favor of thinking he didn’t go deep enough into the abyss.”  Violet said, “Furthermore, when asked to enter once again to see the consequences of his first visit, he doesn’t hesitate a bit.  This shows how he has accepted his darkness, and wishes to explore it more, foregoing any problems this may cause in the future.”  She smiled, knowing that her words effectively put an end to Henry’s argument.  At least for the time being.  Henry for his part, stuttered and riffled through the book, trying to find something to counter her argument.  Jeff knew that he wouldn’t, but it was very entertaining to watch him try. 

                “Well then class, it looks like time is up for now.”  The professor said, cutting into Henry’s furious attempt to keep going.  “We can continue this discussion next time.  You all have your assignments, so I’ll see you all next class.”  He said, eyeing both Henry and Violet as the other students started shuffling out of the room.  Jeff waited outside the room for Violet and started walking next to her once she left.

                “That was mean.”  Jeff said once they were a bit further away from the still dispersing class, “Funny as hell, but mean.”

                “I know.  That’s one of the reasons I did it.”  She said, smiling mischievously.  “Besides, it’ll help him in the long run.” 

                “Dare I ask?”  Jeff asked, mildly curious about what she had seen in Henry’s future.

                “Let’s just say a bit of humility will be a good thing for him to have in the next few days.” She said.

                “Guess I’ll just have to wait and see like the rest of us normally sighted people, huh?” 

                “Yup.” 

                Jeff had gotten used to Violet not telling him very much of what she saw.  She said telling people too much made things too confusing for her, but never really elaborated much on what that meant.  He figured it had something to do with changing the way she saw things, but he could only speculate on that one.

                “Ah,” Violet said suddenly, coming to a complete stop, “We’re about to have some company.” 

                “What kind of company exactly?”

                “Nothing bad, just very interesting.  Until then, we can keep moving.”  She said, and promptly started walking again.  Jeff had no idea why she even bothered stopping, but she probably had some reason.

                Not a moment later, a short, thin girl stepped into their path and simply stood there, looking intently at them, Violet in particular.  She was a plain looking girl without any real eye-catching features, and yet Jeff swore she looked familiar. 

                “Can we help you?”  Jeff asked, wracking his brain to figure out where he had seen her from. 

                “You can’t, but she can.”  The girl said, pointing at Violet.

                “Ok, what’s up?”  Violet asked.

                “I want to know how you did that.”

                “Did what?”

                “In class today.  I don’t think anyone else noticed, but I did.  It was like you knew what Henry’s argument was, and how to counter it.  I think most people just thought it was good planning, but I think it’s something else.”  The girl said.  And suddenly it clicked for Jeff.  It was one of the other students from his English Lit class.  She was one of those students who sit in the back of the room and keep quiet.  After a bit of thought he even recalled that her name was Carol.

                “Oh that.  Well, there’s nothing wrong with thinking fast, is there?”  Violet asked, completely confident in her words.

                “Sure, but it’s more than that.  I’ve been watching you for awhile—“

                “Wait, you’ve been spying on her?”  Jeff asked.

                “Not spying, watching.”  Carol  said defensively, “Anyway, I’ve noticed that you don’t really watch where you’re going, yet you never bump into anyone or trip over anything, even when you’re eyes are closed.  There’s a bunch of other things I’ve noticed as well.  I want to know why.”  She said, crossing her arms.  Violet seemed like she was thinking about something.

                “Hm, ok, I’ll tell you.”  Violet said simply. 

                “You will?”  Both Jeff and Carol said, almost at the same time.  Carol smiled, acting like she had won a prize.  Jeff was more concerned about someone else learning Violet’s secret. 

                “Yup.  It’s simple really.  I can see the through time like you see through space.”

                “Huh?”  Carol asked, looking confused.

                “She can see the future.” Jeff said, holding his head in his hand.

                “Pretty much.  Anyway, I don’t look where I’m going because I don’t need to.  My eyes are pretty much ornamental anyway.”

                “So, you’re blind then?” Carol asked, looking into Violets bright purple eyes.

                “No, I’m not blind.  I just see differently than you.”

                “Ok, prove it then.  I’m going to hold up a few fingers.  Tell me how many I’ll hold up.”

                “Two.  Now three.  Five now.  Seven.  Three again.  Can we stop?  This is giving me a headache.”  Violet said.  Carol looked stunned.  She obviously had no idea what to think about this. 

                “Wow.”  She said simply.  “So, how does this work then?  Are you always looking at what’s going to happen?  How do you interact with the world when you’re a few steps ahead of it?”

                “Well, to answer two of those, no, I’m not always looking at the future.  I can see through time.  That means I can look at the past and present just as easily as the future.  For me, looking at the future is like you both looking straight ahead, that’s why I prefer that.  Looking at the past is like trying to walk forwards while looking behind you, and looking at the present is like only looking at your feet.  As for how I interact with people, I usually just limit my sight to a second or so in front of me unless I have a reason to look further.  I also tend to examine my day beforehand to help me know when I really need to look ahead.”

                “Ok, so are you limited in how far ahead you can see?  And can you see the futures of other people?”

                “Of course I’m limited.  Just like with your sight, mine has a range.  For me, it’s about five years.  And I can see other people’s future as long as they’re next to me.  I can see what’s going to happen to you right now, but once we part ways, I won’t.”

                “Does that matter?  I mean you can see it now, right?”
                “I’m sure you’ve heard that the future isn’t set in stone, right?  Well, that’s true.  Even if I see something happening, it may not happen.  Telling people tends to change things because they react to what I tell them.  It’s why I don’t tell people very much.  Looking at rapidly changing futures is like you looking at rapidly changing pictures.  I can do it, but it gives me a headache.” 

                Jeff was shocked by what he was hearing.  She hadn’t even told him any of that.  He had to wonder why she was telling Carol so much, but he would find out sooner or later.  He would have to ask her later though.

                “Now then, I hate to cut our conversation short,” Violet said, “But Jeff and I have someplace to be, and you should be at the library in about fifteen minutes.”

                “Why?”  Carol asked.

                “Just, trust me on that.”  She said with a wink.  Without saying another word, she simply walked off, leaving Jeff to hurry behind her, and Carol to really wander about what she had just heard.

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*Sigh* It's times like these that I wish I had given myself a bit more wiggle room with the word count.  Oh well.  Also, it's kinda funny how there are some characters I want to use again but never do, and some I don't plan on revisiting yet do.  This is obviously the latter.  I'm not sure I'll even use these guys again, but who knows.  If the word has something to do with some kind of foresight, I might just break these guys out again.  Or not, you never know.

Word: bibelot

bibelot

\ BIB-loh; Fr.  beebuh-LOH \  , noun;

1. a small object of curiosity, beauty, or rarity.

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                Two pairs of footsteps echoed in the dark corridor.  Clouds of dust rose and fell with each one, like the ghosts of those who previously inhabited the crumbling building.  The two men walked down the dark, dank corridor, the older one shining the narrow beam of his flashlight straight ahead with complete confidence, the younger moving his light around with nervous expectation.

                “A-are you sure there’s no traps?” Adam, the younger man said nervously.

                “I told you, no.  Trust me, I’ve been to a few ruins before.” Johan, the older man said, rolling his eyes at his young companions insistence that old ruins needed to have traps.

                “B-but you’ve never been to this one, right?”

                “Well, no, but—“

                “Then how do you know?  What if this place is the one that has them?  What if—“

                “Look kid, contrary to what happens in movies, these places are almost never trapped.  And if they are, they’re all rotted, broken, or have been triggered long ago.  Hell, finding a working trap is nearly as good as finding the actual treasure.  Why, I once knew a guy who found a fully functional trap door that hadn’t been activated yet.  The guy didn’t find so much as a gold coin but he still made a bundle just on that pit.  So yeah, maybe you’d better pray that we do find a trap.  It might be all we find here.”

                “You say that like we won’t find anything.  I though these places were filled with valuables.”

                “Only if you’re an archeologist or an anthropologist.”

                “But…”

                “I told you this when we started, if you were expecting to play Indiana Jones, do it in a video game or something.  Real treasure hunts are a lot less eventful.  I believe I also mentioned to very real probability that we won’t find anything.  It’s a safe bet that someone else beat us to it and looted everything we’d be interested in.”

                “Then why go on these hunts?  Wouldn’t you be better off getting a real job or something?”

                “Maybe.  Treasure hunting doesn’t pay very often, but it pays really well when it does.  If I’m lucky, I can make more in a day then most people make in a year.  Hell, I’m still living off the proceeds from my last find, and that was two years ago.  Plus, I like to travel.”

                Just then, the hall opened up into a small room.  The two beams of light searched around the room, only to find the scattered remains of clay pots.  Johan went over to one of them and picked up a shard, studying it intently before putting it down and sighing.

                “Too bad they’re broken.  Pottery is a lot more valuable when it’s in one piece.”

                “Can’t we just take the shards and put them back together?”

                “Too obvious.  Just about anyone worth their salt would see the glue right away.  We’re actually better off taking the shards as is.”

                “Kind of sucks that all there is here is broken pots.”

                “I know.  But we’ve also only just started.  This is only the second room we’ve been in, and the deeper we go, the more likely we are to find something.  Not much better, but it’s something.  Besides, if you really want to dedicate your life to this, you’d better be ready for some disappointments.”

                Johan left the room without taking a second look around.  Adam though, cast his light around for one more quick look at the dirt covered pots.  Suddenly, his light glinted off something in a small pile of dirt next to one of the larger gathering of pottery shards.  Before following his mentor, he went over to the pile and gently dug the object out of the dirt and held it up to the light.

                To his untrained eye, it looked to be some kind of gemstone, at least that’s what he hoped it was.  It was a small think, just a little bigger than a large marble, and was cut crudely, with simple tools, lacking the polish that modern stones were given.  For the most part, it was clear, but veins of blue, red, yellow, green, and purple ran through it.  Adam could feel his excitement bubbling up when he saw the stone.

                “Hey, hey, I found something!”  He called out.  He ran out of the room, running smack into Johan and almost dropping his treasure.

                “Watch yourself there.”  The large man said, helping the younger, smaller man to his feet.  “Calm down and show me what you found.”  He said, not really believing Adam found anything of value.  That is, until he saw the stone.

                “Nice huh?”  Adam said, holding the stone proudly, “I think it’s a diamond or something.” 

                “Maybe.  If it is, we can call this trip a rousing success.  But it might be nothing but glass or quartz.  Now don’t get me wrong, it’s still worth something, just not as much.”  He said, taking a jewelers lens from one of the side pockets of his overstuffed backpack.  He shined the beam of his flashlight on the stone and looked at it critically through the lens for a minute.  “Well alright then.  It’s a diamond all right.  It’s got some mineral flaws in it, but that actually makes it much rarer and more valuable.  I looks like it was being worked on, and probably not finished being cut, but I can’t be sure.  Good work kid, really good work.”  He said, trying not to let his own excitement show. 

                “So, this is good right?”

                “Oh yeah.  We can get a few million for this easy.  No idea how something like this didn’t get scooped up already, but I’m not complaining.”

                “So, what now?”  Adam asked, watching as Johan carefully wrapped the gem in a cloth he pulled from his pocket.

                “Now?  Now we get out of here and find out what this little guy is worth.”  Johan said, already turning to leave the ruins.

                “Leave?  Just like that?”

                “Just like that.”

                “But shouldn’t we keep going?  I mean, there might be more to find.”

                “Not likely.  One of the most important rules of treasure hunting is if you find something, take it and go.  We wouldn’t want something to happen to our find.  All it takes is one stumble on a loose rock, and it’s gone.  Better to just cut your losses in this case.  Besides, we made out real nice with this one, why bother wasting our time on the off chance there might be something else?”

                “I suppose so.  Still, it seems a shame not to try.”

                “Heh, well, you’re welcome to try, but I’m heading out.”  Johan said as he started heading down the corridor to the exit.  Adam watched the older man walk for a bit.  He turned in the other direction, considering his options.  He dashed after Johan, quickly catching up with his slow gait.

                “So, how are we splitting the money for that thing anyway?”  Adam asked once he had caught up.

                “Well talk about it once we’re out.”  Johan said with a sly chuckle.  Adam could only sigh and hope he got a good cut as he followed behind.

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So yeah, I'm a little sick right now, so forgive me if this one isn't as good as some others.  It's a little hard to really get a good handle on things when your nose is all stuffed up and your head is aching.  But, there are just some words that can't be passed up, so I took a chance and went for it.  Think it was worth it?