The chair toppled backwards, the old man’s head bouncing off the ground with a sickening thump.
A gloved hand grabbed his brother’s throat.
‘Where’s the money?’
‘What money?’ His voice was weak, his body shaking uncontrollably.
‘Your savings! Your stash of cash.’ The robber’s face was hot beneath the balaclava. ‘Tell me where
the money is or I swear to god I’ll kill you both!’
‘The bank. I told you before, our money’s in the bank.’
A second man, holding a knife, entered the room. ‘Nothing.’
‘He’s lying.’ A vicious punch snapped the man’s head back. ‘Where’s the fucking cash!’
A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.