Home of a mother, wife, writer

I was going to do another closing line challenge for this week, but couldn’t think of anything for the prompt. So, I went back to my usual opening line prompt. Wasn’t sure where I was going to take this one, but wrote it in less than thirty minutes.


He should have never been there in the first place. Why had he come again? He couldn’t even remember now. He was supposed to be at work. He had just stepped out for a few minutes. He was due a quick break anyway. So, he was just running down to the corner store for a drink and snack. That was it. He should have just stayed at work though.

He pressed his forehead against the hard floor, his body tense as the footsteps came closer. His fingers touched something sticky, a spilled drink probably. At least he hoped that’s all it was. With his nose right against the floor, he could smell all the people who had passed through here. Could smell the sticky sweetness of iced drinks that hadn’t been completely cleaned up with a mop. There were other smells mixed in with that, but he did not dare put a name to them for his own sanity.

His heart raced as he watched the pair of feet stop right beside him. He could hear the other man still yelling at the cashier even though she was cooperating. He did not dare raise his eyes, afraid he might look at the men the wrong way. They had all ready taken care of the one person who had tried to stop their rampage in the store. He had dropped to the ground when ordered though and stayed there. He wasn’t willing to do anything that would get him killed and keep him from going home when this was over.

He felt the boot to his ribs and bit back a moan. “Get up.”

He didn’t want to do it, but was afraid disobedience would undermine his goal of getting home again. Of seeing his wife and baby girl again. He pushed himself up from the floor and looked into the face of the man who might hold his own fate in his hands. And what he saw had dread forming a heavy ball in the pit of his stomach.

“Go stand against that wall,” the man ordered.

He headed to where the other customers, now prisoners, stood. With his back against the wall, he closed his eyes and let his thoughts drift to the woman he loved and the little girl they had brought into the world. The two people he was sure he would never see again. No, he did not think he would ever leave this place. He should have never been here in the first place.

Comments on: "Short Tuesday: Wrong Place, Wrong Time" (1)

  1. […] piece Wrote 2 more. The first one was a continuation of the last couple I had written, “Wrong Place, Wrong Time” and “A Ham Sandwich“. I didn’t realize that until I had started writing. The […]

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