Out of all the Seven Deadly Sins stories I've done so far, this one was definitely the quickest to write. I had a lot of fun with this and attempted to experiment a little more than normal. As always, love feedback and if you want to have a look at the previous stories, just click on the links below!
He pulled his frail, shaking legs up to his chest. He perched on the one armchair left in his living room and stared at the door. There were three more knocks and they seemed to echo round the small flat. Bernie didn’t even dare to breathe. He could hear them talking right outside and imagined them peering through the peephole, trying to get a glimpse of the treasure within. That was why Bernie never turned the lights on.
The TV sprang to life but before he had gotten through the first set of credits, Bernie realised he was hungry. He paused the DVD and pottered through to his little kitchen. His bare feet were warmed by rubbing on the carpet and they stuck a little with every step on the lino. His kitchen was bare - no appliances but a kettle and a toastie maker. It was all he needed - no need for a microwave or blender or toaster. It would just be a waste of money. Bernie took his half full tin of beans out of the fridge and put half of that into a small pan. He turned on the hob, covered the tin with the same cling film that had been on it before and put it back - those beans would do for dinner. As the first bubbles reached the surface as the beans began to heat up, Bernie took a slice of bread out of the freezer and placed it under the grill. He dipped his finger into the beans and when they were just hot enough, turned the hob off. The slightly defrosted bread came out from under the grill too. No point in wasting money on getting the beans too hot to eat. And the beans would warm up the bread. Bernie took the knife and fork out of the drawer - the fork was missing a prong and the knife had been blunt for a very long time. But they worked. No point in wasting money. Before he could sit back down with his meagre meal, the phone rang. He hobbled as fast as he could to snatch it off the receiver before anyone else heard it.
Bernie froze. He lay on the floor surrounded by his money. He didn’t even dare to breathe in case he disturbed a note or two and the man outside heard him. Bernie started to shake and couldn’t believe he had been so stupid. He shouldn’t have opened the room, he shouldn’t have opened the door, he shouldn’t have opened the drawers or the cupboards or the pillowcases and he definitely shouldn’t have taken the money out and started rolling in it. He’d been caught and now they were going to come in and take him away and then steal all his money. His money. It was his, no one should take it. His money. Stop shouting. Stop yelling. He wouldn’t let him in. He’d never let anyone in. It was his. His money. There were footsteps stomping back upstairs and then there was quiet. Bernie let himself breathe again. He got up off the floor. He organised his money back into the perfect piles and arranged them perfectly back into their perfect hiding places. He locked the door again and already felt himself relaxing as it was closed. He limped back to the kitchen and picked up his now very soggy and very cold lunch and sat down in his threadbare armchair. Bernie saw that the DVD had finished without him getting to see any of it. He pressed play again and prepared to watch it yet again. He wasn’t quite sick of it. He’d get his money’s worth.