Summer 1970 – Through the Door Beneath the Bed


“Why children?” Cyclone snapped. “I know shit happens to everyone. Shit happened to me. Bad shit. But was human shit. These fuckers could take on anyone. Why children?’

I kept my eye on the closet door. It remained open, just an inch. The matchbox stayed perched atop it. 

I said, “Predators prefer to get their meals with the least amount of work. Wolves, lions, tigers – they all seek out the oldest, the youngest, the sick in order to get fed quickly. I have heard that described as ‘keeping the herd strong’ “. 

Cyclone stared at the floor. 

I heard the sound of the matchbox striking the floor.