Fine Feathers
The phoenix feathers had to be worth millions surely, Davy thought, as he crouched in the tool shed, clutching the small bag of feathers to his chest and waiting for the guards outside to move on.
Someone was certainly willing to pay a lot to have them back. The problem was, he couldn't be seen running with a bag of sparkling feathers without whoever saw him catching on. They were just far too obvious. But what else could he do?
It should be something clever, something you could turn into a good story later. But what?
He looked wildly around, but there were only garden tools and equipment stored in here. And yet, it was all he had to work with.
His gaze fell on a stack of cushions for the patio furniture, stored in here to keep them dry. Wait...weren't some cushions stuffed with feathers? He unzipped the cover on one of them, and grinned. Pulling out the pad inside, he replaced it with the bag of feathers and closed everything up again. It looked a little plumper but no more than a cushion should be, and he could carry a cushion anywhere!
He waited a few more minutes. Then, in a lull between the guards, he was over the wall and gone, reappearing further down with the cushion slung casually over his shoulder.
Success was his!
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