What's happening!? thought Raphael. The rumbling engine of a nearby garbage truck growled like some conscripted mastodon awaiting the order to advance. I'm stuck! Raphael struggled to think, staring at the black glass of his dead phone. Help! his mind commanded his unwilling mouth, which remained closed and silent.
From an unseen transistor radio, a Georgia Blues voice sang, "Feel like a broke-down engine, mama."
"Eight," said a small voice from somewhere ahead of Raphael. "Nine."
"Oh no!" whimpered another small voice from somewhere close behind.
"Ten! Ready or not, here I come!" the front-voice said, then began giggling uncontrollably.
Copyright (c) 2021 by D.Lasala-- Image by D.Lasala with DALL-E, 2022