I gave my skateboard one last kick and watched it roll across the porch. It came to a halt by the door, which stood ajar. I went inside the little house, leaving behind the stifling heat and a sleepy subdivision. Just another Wednesday afternoon. “Anyone home?” Inside, it was cool. AC: the air of modernity. As usual, the den looked like a tornado had just hit. Coke cans, plastic water bottles, pizza boxes, various food wrappers. I picked my way through toward Marc’s room. A noise came from my left. A figure took shape, coming toward me. A nice figure….
by Laurent Queyssi