The Doorway

He stood in the doorway of the vacant shop across the road and lit a cigarette.

He had a good view of the bank from where he stood. It was the quiet part of the day with few customers to worry about. He eyed people as they entered and left. He looked up and down the street; he knew where all the CCTV cameras were.

He looked at his watch, it was time to make his move. He finished his cigarette and ground it out in the gutter. He crossed the street slowly. This wasn’t what he wanted to do, but he needed the money.

He paused at the entrance to brush ash off his uniform as he entered the bank.

He opened the door and went back to work.