Toxic

Momma insisted her sons always be home on time.

The city didn’t allow the buses to run through his neighborhood this late. The bus wheezed to a stop. The driver pursed his lips in the rearview. He jumped down the steps to the sidewalk.

He pulled up his hood, adjusted his backpack heavy with textbooks, and began the long walk.

They’d discussed Dr. King’s agape, God’s love operating in one’s heart, loving another simply because they are loved themselves.

He saw the flash.

His head hit the sidewalk, exploding in pain. Get up, get away. His body wouldn’t move.

“Momma?”


Picture is by stevekeiretsu. (100 words)

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