Protest, by Christian Monroy
For the third time since midnight, Sylvia and Tara agreed it was all just an accident and moved on. Then they did it a fourth time to really make sure. The hospital’s break room was still dolled up in family-friendly Halloween props. Nobody wanted to be the one who would take down the wilted coloring-book tarantulas...
We were tossing the football around in the street when he shouted for us to stop. A few of us turned to the voice’s direction. It came from the bus stop on the street corner. It was hard for me to tell exactly what type of voice it was. I thought it was an older voice, very raspy, but...