Alice

“I got a bad feeling is all.”

“Like I said, it is too late for that.”

The other looks off to the horizon showing off the setting sun before he faces the other. “Best we get a fire going.” A silent nod offered, leaves her alone with the other man who points over to the picnic table. “Let’s have a seat over there.”

Seated upon the bench, breaching her memory is mom spreading out that red and white checkered tablecloth right before she sets out fried chicken and potato salad and dad’s famous beans that always tasted extra special. Forcing herself to stop thinking about food is not easy to do as she allows herself to picture butter dripping off grilled corn on the cob that twists into her thinking about having smores for dessert.

Why, she thinks in her head.