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MB Blissett

Lauren had been listening to the radio all morning, waiting for the breaking news with a focus that lurched between panic and deep.bleak relief. Listening for the wail of sirens or the snap of gunfire. Sean and Jeff had reassured her that it would all be fine. Go in, get the money, then get out. She had told them where everything was, the codes that Mr Downman-Love had trusted her with, in the blithe, patronising way that he had treated her since she started there. She looked around at the yellowing walls, sat on the sheets that carried the faint tang of ammonia from the industrial laundry that the motel used. She looked at the phone in the room. It made her wonder who made calls from hotel rooms, and if the phone held the memories and feelings within them. Like Grandma’s house after she died. How the light through the…

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