Run Away

They made their plans after breakfast, which was cold coffee and the stale remnants of three different bags of cereal. Once the decision was made, everything else was like flowing downhill. Bags were packed. Mementos were stored, or destroyed. Their ideas of what were useful were still quite naïve at that point. Later they would laugh at what they’d brought.

She’d said it often enough. Over and over, when she paid enough attention to speak to them in the first place. “You’ll do what I say, or you won’t live here anymore!”

That’s true, they’d reflected, and so we won’t.