This is for Sonya’s three line tales prompt.
The photo is ©Rosan Harmens
I passed the kid every day on the way to work, already looking like a derelict, already a hopeless wreck of a human being.
This morning he caught my eye, his gaze abnormally bright and piercing, as I hurried past, almost reached out a hand, then turned the gesture into a shrug, leaving me with a feeling of guilt, though what could I do?
I gathered my things together and made for the door as evening shadows filled the car park, and as I reached to turn off the light, a movement made me turn and the sound of heels drumming against the filing cabinet—he was there, waiting for me, as I had half-feared he would be.