Keep watching me. You think you're smarter, somehow better, but I'll win. I meet your cold-eyed stare across the table and I realize I've been sitting here for two days now. I'll sit here a hundred more if I have to. My resolve is that much stronger. I watch. And listen. And wait. For you to turn your back. It just takes one second — one second, Mom. I'll slip those cold lima beans off my plate and into my pocket. Those beans will disappear, and I'll be back out on the street.
Return to the Summer Fiction index.