the kindness of strangers

"C-Can you h-help me, p-please?"

hushed-stuttered voice breaks her concentration. Shaggy coal hair- concern outlines his reflective Aviators. She's looking at herself. Timid smile retreats at his stretched grin.

"I-I was w-walking my dog w-when he took o-off after s-squirrel." Stuttering, he reenacted.

Worry fluttering, she surveys. Bustling park- walkers, bicyclists, playground.

"W-won't you p-please h-help me?"

*****

Coughing fit abruptly wakes her. Dried emerald eyes flush tears. Struggling to sit, heaviness tightens at her ankle. Stale smoke and mildew assail her as she regulates her breathing.

Focus.

Salmon walls. Cluttered white-chipped dresser. Antique vanity below loft bed. Perched in umbra, tangled matted ash hair shutters grey eyes. Filth splotches pallid face, frail arms, in drab dress. Strangling scent of rot.

"Didn't your parents teach you not to talk to strangers?"

©️ Meg. June 2. 2020