PHOTO PROMPT © Alicia Jamtaas
Only a keen eye notices the garlic; if they do, they know I am a gardener and think nothing of it. Six summers ago, neighborhood pets start disappearing. By August, it is children.
In December, l lay the trap, and on New Year’s Eve, it takes the bait. Its silver cage rests behind the facade. Only a keen ear hears its shrieking in the night and shudders. My grim smile under dark-circled eyes waits.
Professor VanHelsing arrives on Monday, to assist with Mindy’s birthday celebration.
“You would have been ten today, baby girl. May your soul rest in peace.”
Rochelle Wisoff-Fields is the creative host of Friday Fictioneers.