… the creaky sound of the front door opening. It was Sal. Alone. She had a worn look on her face and a bag of groceries in her arms. Her hair was uncombed, her posture battle-fatigued. A mother in the midst of a major life crisis, the kind they didn’t prepare mothers for.
She labored toward the kitchen to get rid of the groceries she had been in the middle of paying for when she got the emergency call on her cell phone. She dropped the bag on the countertop and shook her head. Should she even concern herself with putting away the perishables?
She heard a noise. Paranoia? No, there it was again, a creak. In another room, the hardwood floor had creaked.
What now, she thought, I’m being robbed?
She grabbed a large butcher knife from the dish rack and exited the kitchen. The noise had come from one of the bedrooms, she decided. Heart racing, stomach churning, she made her way down the hallway, creeping and cautious. It was dark, but she didn’t dare turn on the light or make a sound. Catch him by surprise. Slice off his nuts. See if he fucks with a pissed-off Latina ever again.
the Suspense Thriller
by Randy Boyd