Alice shook her head as she wiped tears from her eyes. It took some convincing to accept the idea her husband proposed of alternating anniversary trips devised by each of them. Allen had a long history of under performance at planning anything, but she loved him and wanted to believe he could do better.
“You promised!” Alice sobbed.
“What?” Allen asked. “You said you loved waterfalls. This is a waterfall.”
“I want to see the falls at Niagra!”
“But to properly appreciate them you must see this first!”
Felix stood silently looking at the way things must have been. The waters rose so fast there was just no way to avoid them. He tried to imagine the panic the family felt when they were swept away from their vehicle down this part of the West Valley river. He could see the hand prints where they tried to hold on. There was still a narrow collection of folks who thought they may still be found alive, but he wasn’t among them. This was going to be one of those stories that stayed with him for a long, long time.
“Are we going to the egg?” five year old Stanley asked as he allowed his mother to towel him off from his morning bath. His mom continued in her morning routine, not slowing long enough to entertain the question. Her youngest child, the fourth, would start school in six days and she was happy to have the last time with him, but they were running late.
“Mom, are we going to the egg?”
“We will take our breakfast,” Mom answered as they moved toward the door.
At their destination Stanley pointed upwards, “It is the egg!”
Grumbling was heard from two locales, 33 Mockingbird Lane and 35 Mockingbird Lane. A sturdy iron fence clearly defined the boundary between the properites, yet disagreement was a daily if not hourly thing.
But now there was the leaning tower of Mockingbird Lane.
“It is not leaning,” Rucker announced.
“Is too!” Cramer shouted. He then produced a large construction square and slid it against the base of the structure.
“Oh my square, thank you very much,” Rucker said jerking it away.
“Wait, you need to see how it leans,” Cramer boomed.
Lou scrambled through the marble halls of the Czech mansion, looking for the room where his salvation awaited. The Russian spy he thought he’d unsuccessfully wooed suddenly changed her ways and gave him the location of his pistol. All he had to do was get to it before “they” could get to him.
His heels dug hard on the solid floor, echoing loudly in the hallway. It would give him away, but if he didn’t find the weapon he was a goner anyway.
Finally at his destination his eyes darted for the ice bucket she said was here. Was it?