Marc got off the R line and was back in Forest Hills after a typical workday. Nothing unusual happened. Everything was chill. He strolled down 108 Street towards his apartment.
He saw all the usual folks along the way — The elderly with their aides taking them to the store, kids on their bikes and the religious folks with their noses deep in a prayer book as they walked down the block. It was amazing they could walk without tripping or walking into a tree. Perhaps a greater power was watching over them?
He strolled past his block and went to a few stores and started walking home.
Nothing unusual was going on. A light rain started. It didn’t bother Marc at all. He strolled along 108 Street. He passed a few of the shuls and went toward his apartment building. He walked in. Made chit chat with the doorman about his beloved Yankees. He checked the mailbox. As usual, he got nothing in the mail.
He was about the turn the oven and bake chicken when his phone rang. It was a friend he hadn’t heard from in a while. He always liked her. Years ago, they date. She said she was thinking about him and was wondering if they could meet in Long Island City for a beer. He grabbed his coat and raced to E train.
The train actually got him there quickly. He went to Citibank to get some cash and walked over to the bar. On his way, he heard some loud noises and saw some smoke. So he detoured a block or two to see what was going on. He saw a bunch of teens lighting M-80s and setting things on fire in the park near MOMA PS 1. Some parents were screaming at them. Their young children were getting scared.
Marc just wanted to see Jen. He always liked her. He dated many Jens in his life. They were always pretty, sweet, and a bit off the wall. Just what he lived for. But he knew he had to take care of things. He picked up his pace toward the park.
Quickly his eyes scanned the terrain. He noted there were four kids wreaking havoc. Two little boys were crying. Their moms were trying to calm them down. It seems the mischief-maker’s wares landed near the kids who were having fun on the slidin pond. They fell off and scraped their knees.
As Marc approached them a quarter stick of dynamite glazed his right arm. He began to convulse. People thought he was going to pass out. It didn’t look good. A lady came over to him to see if he needed help. As she approached him he began to shoot barley out of his eyes. The obnoxious teens started to laugh and taunt him. They quickly shut their mouths when the barley was making its way down their throats. They started gasping for air and choking. Marc backed up. He took a look around. People were staring at him. He knew he had to go. He took a look at the kids. They were still choking but coming around. As they got back on their feet he pomegranates flew out of his fingers. The kids were down for the count.
Marc checked his phone. He had about 10 minutes to get over to the bar and see Jen. Boy did he need a beer. He texted her and said he’s on his way. He started walking over there. Little did he know another woman was following him.
Mitchell's thoughts, photos, etc. 