Photo: Robert Almonte on Unsplash
The night is not as I’d expected it to be.
The sirens are silent. The windows dark. The very air seems still.
It had been a close call. Too close, almost.
I glance at Malachi. He returns a tremulous shrug.
“Will we be alright?” I ask. I didn’t mean to say it out loud, but the words could not stay in. The sound — although barely above a whisper — boomerangs in my chest.
“We might be,” he mouths.
At least I think he does. I cannot hear much above my heartbeat thundering in my ears. Everything inside me feels tight. I don’t remember being so unnerved. Not since. You know. The other time.
“Will they return?” Fear dries my mouth.
We reach the corner and separate. The night breaths as I hurry home and we go in different directions down the imperturbable street.
For the dVerse prosery challenge
Prosery prompt: “We go in different directions down the imperturbable street” (from the poem “An Aspect of Love, Alive in the Ice and Fire” by Gwendolyn Brooks)