Missing
Where do they go when they leave us?
Sarah sat alone as the last dim bulb flickered above her, the fan squeaked with each solemn pass. She brought another spoonful of dry cornflakes to her lips and chewed, refusing to look up but feeling its gaze again.
“Go away, Timmy.”
“Mom says it’s not polite to talk with your mouth full.”
“I don’t care, Timmy.”
Sarah stared at the ground, tormented by the shadows gathering around her. She couldn’t look at them, couldn’t look at Timmy, or the milk carton she had left out for days. Timmy’s picture printed below the thick, bold letters ‘MISSING’ on its side.
About the Creator
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More stories from Kevin McLaughlin and writers in Fiction and other communities.
Her Majesty Mia and her minions
I rule this rag tag lot… they’re not much, but they’re all I’ve got! I preside at the head of the table, my indisputable, rightful place. But, I randomly perch on other chairs at a moment’s notice… whenever the mood strikes. Such fun keeping them off balance. Fun reminding them who’s boss... ME!
By Angie the Archivist 📚🪶6 days ago in Petlife
Comments (1)
Ohh very good…