The distinctive whine of the Honda engine accompanied by window
rattling music interrupted my reading. I folded the page to mark my place
before laying the book on the coffee table. The afternoon sun blinded me as I
stood to inspect the car in the driveway. I lowered my eyes and closed the
blinds after spotting the familiar teal green Civic.
The music continued after the engine had stopped. I shook my head at the popping and cracking of the speakers exposed their flaws. The music was gone as quickly as it had appeared with one the slamming of a door and another following. I fell back on the couch and grabbed the book, opening it to a random spot, as the door opened.
Two pairs of white sneakers were visible from my basement perch. The moved aimlessly around the kitchen. I spotted a flat white box in the father's hands. The boy approached the steps and leaned forward to meet my eyes. I answered his wave with a nod before he spoke.
"Do you want some pizza?"
"No, thanks, I already ate." I dissected the question as I returned to my book - a section I had previously read. There was no trace of apprehension in his voice - it seemed to be genuine.
I leaned forward on the couch, straining to hear their conversation, but only mumbles filled my ears. The boy had always mumbled, the father's mumbling led to believe it was hereditary, but then again I mumbled myself.
A dry, tingling sensation in the back of my throat made me sit up as I coughed. I thought of water as I rose to climb the stairs. I froze as I spotted the father, the man with the boy, the man sitting in my chair while the boy was in his familiar spot.
I was suddenly sad, a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, the coughing gone, as I watched another take my place. Beads of sweat popped on my forehead as I tried calm my nerves, but the juxtaposition of a foreign body in my seat was confusing. It was a simple image, a father and a son, a timeless subject.
I slowly lowered myself onto the couch while looking away from the intruder, the thief. I knew he'd soon be gone with order restored, but the feeling of loss could was not easily squashed.
The music continued after the engine had stopped. I shook my head at the popping and cracking of the speakers exposed their flaws. The music was gone as quickly as it had appeared with one the slamming of a door and another following. I fell back on the couch and grabbed the book, opening it to a random spot, as the door opened.
Two pairs of white sneakers were visible from my basement perch. The moved aimlessly around the kitchen. I spotted a flat white box in the father's hands. The boy approached the steps and leaned forward to meet my eyes. I answered his wave with a nod before he spoke.
"Do you want some pizza?"
"No, thanks, I already ate." I dissected the question as I returned to my book - a section I had previously read. There was no trace of apprehension in his voice - it seemed to be genuine.
I leaned forward on the couch, straining to hear their conversation, but only mumbles filled my ears. The boy had always mumbled, the father's mumbling led to believe it was hereditary, but then again I mumbled myself.
A dry, tingling sensation in the back of my throat made me sit up as I coughed. I thought of water as I rose to climb the stairs. I froze as I spotted the father, the man with the boy, the man sitting in my chair while the boy was in his familiar spot.
I was suddenly sad, a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, the coughing gone, as I watched another take my place. Beads of sweat popped on my forehead as I tried calm my nerves, but the juxtaposition of a foreign body in my seat was confusing. It was a simple image, a father and a son, a timeless subject.
I slowly lowered myself onto the couch while looking away from the intruder, the thief. I knew he'd soon be gone with order restored, but the feeling of loss could was not easily squashed.
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