Love Brotherly

Paul walked the streets struggling to prevent himself from shuffling his feet on the pavement, his little brother Nicky was impressionable. If Paul did it, then it would be easy for Nicky to do it. Each one of them had a backpack and Paul had a plastic bag with last minute items he was able to gather.

“Where are we going,” Nicky asked, swaying left and right. “Hey, Paul! Where are we going?” 

“Just,” Paul paused on his sentence, “keep walking. Okay?”

“Ugh… I’m so tired. Can we take a break?” 

“We only walked three blocks.”

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P.I.N.

“What is free will,” the childlike, robot program asked the programmer. 

The programmer peered over his thin glasses at the glow of the computer screen. It was dark in the cave of Silas and he was occupied by the long string of buggy code. The program stood by patiently with a peripheral in its metallic hand. 

“Hmmm,” the programmer Silas hummed through his naval cavity.

“What is free will,” the program repeated. 

“Oh…” Silas perked up from his keyboard and turned to see the little robot. He smiled briefly and took the peripheral from the program’s hand. “Free will… It’s…” Silas paused and ruminated over the thought. “It’s choice. Rather, it’s the freedom of choice.” He nodded slowly after he contemplated whether he liked his answer. “Yes. Why do you ask?”

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The Case

A small boy spent about three hours going through the different airport terminals. He had a backpack equipped and tried a hefty amount of chocolate from the international shops. Then he read magazines. He watched the planes take off and land in the distance behind the wide clear glass panes. 

“Is that boy by himself,” Angela, a shop clerk from a from a newsstand, asked.

“It happens,” Carl, a janitor, said. “If they show a ticket, they’re good.”

“Carl, my son has the attention span of a gnat. That boy could’ve missed his flight hours ago.” 

“When do you expect him to learn,” Carl asked. “Serious question. Because his parents or guardian took him here. I guarantee you he’s fine.” 

“We have to protect the kids, Carl. What if a stranger tries to take advantage of him?”

“What if a stranger takes advantage of you? Or me?” Angela turned to him and gave him a look. “What,” Carl asked.

“I’m not talking to you right now, Carl,” Angela said, rolling his eyes. 

“Ten bucks says he’s fine when I ask him,” Carl said, watching the boy carefully. 

“I will not engage in betting activities,” Angela said, slapping Carl on the shoulder. “You better go ask him.”

“Fine,” he replied, shaking his head. 

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Father

“Are you sure about this,” Stevie asked. “Running away… I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“And I don’t think you know him like I do,” Michael said. Michael grabbed a handful of his boxers from his drawer and shoved them in his large faded green duffel bag that lay crumpled on top of his bed. 

“But,” Stevie struggled to say, “where are you going to go?” Stevie wouldn’t dare stop Michael from leaving. Michael was thinner than Stevie, but Michael knew how to punch.

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Restroom

“Is everything okay, Zach” the receptionist asked.

“Yep,” I reply quickly. “Just don’t like hospitals.” 

It’s true.  Haven’t been a fan of them since I was a kid. My foot tapped impatiently on the linoleum surface that lined the entire hospital infrastructure. My fingers drummed in the same tune. It would only be moments before I wiggled my foot and lose the foundation of my courage and bail. The receptionist doesn’t have a clue who I’m here to see. She might not know. Neither would the person I’m here to see.

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Saturday Night Grace

“Where am I going, J,” Thomas asked his brother. He rolled through the empty intersection after the light turned green. It was Saturday evening and Thomas’s foot bounced in place with impatience.

“I don’t have the address,” Joe said slowly. Joe had reclined his chair all the way back and stared at the street lamps illuminating the road and walkways. Joe is dressed for a party, but his face is prepped for a funeral.

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FunHouse

“Baby, it’s time to get up,” Camille said.

“Okay,” Richie mumbled with his face buried in his pillow.

“Come on, sweet pea. You’re going to be late and I can’t drive you to school,” Camille returned to Richie’s doorway to say. After a few moments, she returned. “Richard, I am not feeling well and I don’t have time for this.” Camille peered into the darkness and saw something wasn’t right.  

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