On the Run

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Snuck through the backyard to your window. Moon’s coming out, and my shadow’s stretched like a murder-man’s against that white vinyl siding. The damn dog’s barking and I wish I had the vanishing. But that tension knot inside me’s something only you can untie with nails lacquered red like cartoon blood, or some Tarantino thing. So I tap, tap, and the window cracks. Sirens far-off can keep on searching.

 

 

Written in response to this week’s Six Sentence Stories challenge. You can read others’ takes on this week’s them “YARD,” here.

Image adapted from a photo by Flickr user Juanedc – thanks for sharing with an open CC license!

7 thoughts on “On the Run

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