Not meant to get lost. I was watching the cotton candy stand’s spinning lights when Mom disappeared. Everyone was shouting, music was blasting, and youngsters laughed. Everything looked the same. My chest was constricted, and I couldn’t remember our origin. Officer David discovered me hunched near the funnel cake vendor, wiping my face with my sleeve. He started off asking few questions. Just asked, “Hey, buddy, you okay?” He was smooth, like he knew the answer. He sat next me on the sidewalk, not rushing me, because I couldn’t talk. Let me hold his hand. He probably didn’t care that…
Author: World Wide
I was too busy sweating bullets and cursing to hear him pull up behind me. My automobile died on Elm Street’s highest incline, hazard lights glowing mockingly. I tried to rock it forward, but my worn-out sneakers and steep hill prevented it. Then Officer Weibel arrived. No sirens, ticket pad—just rolled down his window and asked if I needed help. Suddenly, he was out of his cruiser, sleeves up, pushing me like we were in a team event we didn’t sign up for. He didn’t have to. He could have towed me, written me up, or stayed away. No, there…
Air smelled like burning and rain. Ash stuck to the snow. Despite whispers and firefighters, he didn’t seem to hear. He stood like that, holding the little, quivering kitten to his chest. His rough, shaking hands covered her from the cold, his sweater sooty and snowy. I swallowed hard and approached. “Sir… Are you okay? Not looking up. She was tighter in his grip. He murmured, “They’re all gone,” barely audible. The home. The shots. Everything.” He gazed down at the kitten and stroked her damp fur. His lips twitched, but not from cold. “I only have her.” Right then,…
I always thought love looked like something. A warm glance, a held hand, a moment of silence that says everything. But now, sitting on the stiff couch in my own living room, I realize I don’t even know what love looks like on my daughter’s face. Because I’ve never seen her before today. She’s eight months old. Soft, small, and gripping her mother’s sleeve with tiny fingers. Her big brown eyes flicker between me and the toys scattered on the floor. I want to hold her, but I don’t know if she’d let me. Kara—my wife—stands stiffly by the door.…
It was hard for me to swallow because I was still sleepy. “Yes,” I replied with care. “I walked her from the graveyard to her house.” “Is something wrong?” The police officer gave me a calm look. “Her sons said she didn’t come home last night.” “She’s not there.” “What?” It made my stomach hurt. “That’s not possible!” I led her inside myself. I stayed for tea too. The elder boy stepped forward, his face red with anger. “Then where is she?” Since we checked out the house. “She’s not there.” I couldn’t believe it. After I left, did something…
I have been a guard around Salem Creek for almost eight years. It’s a quiet neighborhood with mostly retirees, dog walkers, and the odd teen getting into trouble. Not too crazy. I thought the call about a “disturbance” near Lot 17 would be about a neighbor fight over trash cans or a dog barking. When I pull up, I see a middle-aged man holding… a toad on the curb. He looks a little jittery, like he might have had too much coffee. A big one with spots. He quickly waves me down. He says, “Officer, I need you to touch…
It was clear from Malachi’s eyes when he shrugged when I asked what he had planned for his birthday. He mumbled, “I don’t really want a party, Grandma,” and looked at his worn-out sneakers. But I knew what was true. Not that he didn’t want a party, but he didn’t want his friends to find out where we lived. Things have been… hard since his mom died and I took him in. My set income didn’t go very far, and the rent kept going up. We were stuck in a small room in a bad part of town. Malachi never…
I heard them just outside my living room window after midnight. They were slow, measured steps. The thought of getting my phone made my heart race. Being alone in the house my late father used to own had never scared me before, but that sound gave me the creeps. “I think someone’s outside,” I said in a very low voice into the phone. The dispatcher stayed on the line until I saw the lights come on. A tall police officer walked out and used a flashlight to look around the yard. He gently knocked, but you couldn’t read his face.…
I didn’t even plan to stop. Food was in the back seat, and my phone’s battery level was only 5% full. But I saw him laying on the curb with his head barely raised, his ribs showing, and one ear bent like it had been torn off a long time ago. When I got close, he didn’t run away. Like he knew I wasn’t going to hurt him because he just looked at me. He was having trouble standing because his legs were shaking. As soon as I knelt down, he stumbled over and fell into my lap, like we’d…
