Wait
Matthew Ryan Fischer
The door closed, and Alan heard the latch fall into place, and
realized he was now locked outside. There was, perhaps, an unlocked window, but
that was on the other side of a very tall fence, and ever since he injured his
foot jumping down from a very tall fence in order to sneak into a hot tub in
the middle of the night at a hotel, Alan had resisted climbing any additional
very tall fences. Plus, he wasn’t totally sure the window was unlocked. And he didn’t
feel like tearing out the screen and then having to replace it someday. And he
imagined all the ways he could hurt himself climbing through windows and falling
in on top of a desk or breaking a lamp or something.
His cellphone was somewhere. His best friend had a spare key to
his place, but his best friend was at least an hour away and Alan was pretty
sure he didn’t have the number memorized. He could knock on a neighbor’s door,
but he didn’t really know his neighbors and he was shy and felt awkward
bothering people.
The nights were getting cold. His feet and elbows hurt and he didn’t
have on a long sleeve shirt and wasn’t wearing shoes or socks. It was meant to
be a quick trip to the mailbox. It was turning out to be anything but.
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