The gardeners were busy, their lawn mowers humming, when cars crept into the cul-de-sac. Young men tumbled out with real firepower slung over their shoulders. Was someone about to be shot? It was hard to tell, with them smiling so. They could advertise for Crest toothpaste, or in the old days, Pepsodent. “You’ll wonder where the yellow went, when you brush with Pepsodent.” This was no ad though, we knew it when the bullets clicked into their rifles. We peeked out our windows. The gardeners stood frozen. I turned away, thinking about the past.
How innocent we were, how mistaken.
Linda Lowe’s stories and poems have appeared in Outlook Springs, Tiny Molecules, Star 82 Review, A Story in 100 Words, and others.
