Pulp-fiction Direct

He walks out. The diner door chimes.

Leo pauses. Smiles. Doesn’t answer.

“I waited. The old man takes it off every night at 10:17. Puts it in the same drawer. I walked in at 10:23. He was in the bathroom. I didn’t run. I didn’t climb a fire escape. I opened the drawer, took the watch, closed the drawer, walked out.” pulp-fiction