An excerpt from my current short story. I'm intrigued by the league of stories where nothing important happens. Examples would be "Seinfeld" and Burn After Reading.
And so they did. The two thugs tucked Rod in like a sick child and all but kissed his forehead. They rushed around the house straightening knocked over lamps and replacing furniture. The place was already such a mess that they really hadn’t done much damage beyond what was already there. Returning to their van, they grabbed their guns again.
“Not much dark left,” said Mike. “Let’s make this quick. No names.”
“No names,” Tom repeated.
Laughing at His Misery
34 minutes ago