Zip goes the black sports bag, the sound makes me smile. The zipper once had a brand name but now only the “N” and “I” remain. In my line of work, sometimes you need to zip up in a hurry.
I open the bag lovingly. I know each tool homed within, simple, yet sinister every one. I unpack; holding the bicycle spoke to the light, then the hacksaw, the claw hammer, toothbrush with all but four bristles removed. As each item is displayed, I hear a whimper come from my captive.
“Are you ready to play?” I ask. “I am.”