This week for the Carrot Ranch Literary Community flash fiction challenge, we were to write something about the safe cracker’s daughter. I thought for a while about the stereotypical safe cracker, then I wondered what would happen with a little gender bending and maybe a dare instead of a crime. So here’s my contribution.

I was thirteen when Mom went to prison for cracking a safe. I’m actually pretty proud of her because she never took anything. It was just a dare.

She’d been raggin’ on my dad for not giving her jewelry—like her friends got.

“I ain’t got that kind of dough,” Pop said, “so when you rob a bank, I’ll get your diamonds.”

We knew she had the skills and what she didn’t know, she’d learn. But it was just idle conversation.

“Maybe I will.”

“I double dog dare you,” Dad said. “You ain’t got the nerve.”

But she did.