The Way Home
Copyright© 2019 by barbar
Chapter 1
Slap file closed. Throw into out-tray. (very satisfying thunk) Look at watch. Time to go. Time for my little girl.
Pick up briefcase. Two files from in-tray. Drop into briefcase. (click-click) Catches close. (love that sound)
Check reflection in window. Straighten tie. Pull door closed. Listen for snick. (another good sound)
Wave to secretary. “Good night Molly.”
“Good night, Mr Richardson. See you tomorrow.”
Her voice is soft. I love the sound of her voice. It sounds so sweet.
Keep walking. No time to chat. My girl will be waiting.
(Traffic noise) Crowded pavement. Bland faceless people bustle. (snips of half-heard conversations) Stride through crowd. Be assertive, not pushy.
Two blocks of busy pavements.
Turn right into park. (birds singing) No more crowd. Longer strides. No time to dawdle. My little girl will be waiting.
Park bench is empty. (except for the memories) Pat park bench. (memories make me smile)
No time to dawdle. Keep walking.
Path opens into paved circle. Fountain sprays and hisses and gurgles.
Stop.
I stop and look at the fountain.
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