A slow-moving stream of coffee made it’s way towards the unconscious woman’s face. When it reached her, it would mix with the blood dripping from her mouth. He wondered absurdly if the coffee would be absorbed into the blood or if it would stay separate, like oil and water.
In the moments after the woman went down, the other patrons of the pharmacy froze and stared at him as if they could not process what just happened. Wallace looked up from the bloody coffee and stared helplessly at the pharmacist behind the counter who had picked up the phone.
“I… I just needed my prescription.” he stammered, backing away. He glanced at the woman who was beginning to stir. He spun on his heel and raced out of the store.
Panic set in when he stepped outside. The wailing of sirens in the distance not doing much good for his nerves. He stooped, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. I can’t go back to jail. I can’t go back to jail.
“Damn!” he shouted, and disappeared down the alley.