Three Line Tales, Week 101

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three line tales, week 101: a gold number eight five zero 850 painted on an old-fashioned chest or suitcase

By Neel Anil Panicker

Like ghosts they moved in and out of railway yards, crossing lines, jumping over wooden tracks, ever careful not to fall under the high beams of the tower top halogen rays.

Their shraggy hairs and shabby visages laden heavy with soot, grime and grease that had attached itself to their blackened bodies made them look like black owls as they crouched under their favourite eight_ five_ ooh that late July  summer evening waiting for the golden midnight hour to fall when they would effect their next big ‘strike’.

From his post half a kilometre away Rambagh Railway Police Inspector Aslam Beg took his eyes off the night vision goggles and wondered how long it would be before the infamous ‘850 Gang of Four’ ended up behind bars.


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