Left in Central Park

This is another response to my posted writing activity, but I cheated…. Instead of writing a beginning, middle, and end, like I was supposed to, I just kind of dove into it, and wrote a scene out of what would be the story.

John stared at Don, running a hand through the too-long blond hair that was one of the many features he shared with his identical twin. There was only one thing that distinguished them, the fact that his brother sat nonchalantly, but eternally, in a wheelchair. 

Jon didn’t know how he knew this was for real this time. It had only been an hour, and there had been plenty of similar incidents in the past, but somehow, he knew. This wasn’t like the times in the grocery store where Don and Jon stood forever by a half-full, abandoned cart, only for one loud speaker call by a caring employee to magically grab his parents from wherever they had been hiding out. Their parent’s had even taken them on trips before. These trips were always to new, cool, places, but they always had something in common. At the climax of some delightful activity, stepping off a roller coaster pumped with joy and adrenaline, or clutching boxes of popcorn while pointing at the lion at the zoo, the two boys would find themselves separated from their parents, only for the two adults to come skulking back just when the boys had lost all hope of seeing them again. 

But this time was different. Jon and Don’s parents weren’t coming back this time. 



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