Till The End of The World
He comes through the aisle, then just before reaching the opening, he turns left, like he knew I was there.
Fuck. We got only a second.
"NOW!"
The workers shove, two enormous flour sacks tip from the stack, the impact sends flour exploding into the air like a bomb, the entire aisle disappears inside a white cloud.
I step out, brushing flour off my hands, chest heaving.
“Fuck, he's covered.” I mutter, staring at Evan now.
Holy shit! We actually got him. This is going to keep me happy for weeks.
The warehouse erupts—Cheers bounce off the shelves. Whistles cut through the noise. Somebody starts clapping like this is the greatest thing they've seen all week.
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