Robin Finch

9:36 p.m 

“Have a Merry Christmas and a Happy Holiday season!” The cashier smiles warmly at me as he hands me my receipt. The twinkle in his old, gray eyes makes the season worth it for me. It’s Christmas Eve and I start work soon. Everyone knows not to be out after 10:00 p.m. tonight, so the streets are empty and the sidewalks are quiet. 

9:45 p.m.

I take a seat on a bench across the street from a brownstone and watch as the lights flicker off on the second floor. I take a bite of my convenience store sandwich and grimace at the taste of rancid mayonnaise on my tongue. I wrap the plastic back over my uneaten sandwich and set it on the bench beside me, the snowflakes trickling down, and landing on the streets. 

9:58 p.m.

The streets are deathly still as I stand from my bench. I raise my hands above my head and stretch deeply. I rock my head from side to side to stretch the muscles. With my hands warmly in my coat pockets, I scramble cautiously across the street. 

10:01 p.m. 

I turn left from in front of the brownstone and make my way down the sidewalk. I look up to a lit window and smile wide as the elderly woman in the window above me, looks at me in shock and disbelief. They say not to stay out past 10:00 p.m. on Christmas Eve. 

10:05 p.m.
“Ah. Someone was running late, it seems.” I smile to myself, as the silhouette of a man scrambles down the sidewalk toward me. I hide behind the SUV in the street and wait patiently for my unsuspecting dinner.

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