I’m eighty-five, memory’s failing me, but the events of that day will never escape my mind’s eye.
The sun was just waking up, sending a pinkish hue across the city. It was a Sunday morning; folks were preparing to start their day. Most would head to the church building for service.
I could smell the bacon frying as I looked in the mirror, struggling to tie my tie. I went to her, my wife of fourteen years… at the time. Let’s see, our twin boys were nine, yep, fourteen years. I believe we’ve been married for sixty-three years, now. I’ve never taken my wedding band off.
She graciously fixed my clothing and then sent me to the store for the eggs she had forgotten.
I had a problem that I couldn’t tell anyone about. I knew for a fact Millie didn’t have a clue, that’s my wife’s name, Millie. I kissed her cheek, headed out and caught a glimpse of one of those family-less urchins. I offered him a ride and a tiny box of lemonheads; I kept a stash in my glove compartment. I only needed him for a few minutes and then the town would have one less throw-away child.
My plans were foiled when Deputy Forsythe pulled up beside me, knowing my intentions, he stared me straight in the eyes.
I sped off, rounded the corner and crashed into the light pole at the town’s entrance. I felt my spirit escape when my body shattered the windshield. The force sent me flying directly into the pole. I can still be seen if the lighting’s right.
My wife and boys have never visited, making this place much worse than hell.
I hear all the mean things people say about me.
I suppose I’m a trapped tourist attraction.
Leesa Writes 