The library was quiet, the frail librarian pushed the carpet sweeper up and down the aisles of ancient books. It was time to close. Her favorite time.
She had just stepped into the supply closet to put the sweeper away, when the bell over the door jingled, startling her. Two small children walked in, and ran on confident legs to the storage room in the back, marked "employees only."
"You can't go back there!" She called, but her voice sounded strange in this desolate place. She peeked in the dark storage room, but couldn't see anyone there. All was quiet.
She was just thinking about how weird the situation was when the bell jingled again, and a man walked in. "Have you seen my two kids. I thought I saw them come this way?"
She smiled, relieved that she hadn't imagined them. "They went that way," she pointed to the room in the back.
The man nodded and headed toward the room, disappearing inside.
Soon he returned, his demeanor had changed, his countenance fallen. "Sorry to bother you," he mumbled as he headed toward the exit.
"Didn't you find them?" She inquired of the melancholy man.
"I never do. My twins were killed right there on the highway a year ago, and I keep thinking I see them, but..." he hung his head and walked out into the street.
The librarian watched after him through the frosty window. The father caught sight of something up ahead, and the librarian followed his gaze. In the middle of the highway, boy and girl held their hands out to their father.
"Stop! Wait!" he called out weakly as he sprinted after them, the children disappeared at the last second, placing the lonely man in the path of the oncoming truck.
ВЫ ЧИТАЕТЕ
Shorts: A Collection of Short Fiction
Короткий рассказJennifer White's short fiction. Each story is 300 words or less. Her stories feature lifelike characters in unique settings.
