Dec. 27

Kurt glid over to the closed door in the back, shut next to a postboard full of notices promoting piano lessons and babysitters available. He blinked, then rapped on the door. “Jade? We’re going.” No answer. He knocked again. 

I stood back with Rick and Barry on either side of me in the middle of the store. All of us, front clerk included, watched as Kurt took the handle and jiggled it preemptively. It moved to the right, freely. Not locked. Pale florescent light poured out of the corner of the bathroom as Kurt slowly peered past door and inside. He stood there for a while, neck cut off by the angle of the door, and eventually came out and looked at us with a new pale colour flushed across his face. 

He came to us, squinting and sweaty, and blinked a few times.

“We need to call an ambulance.”


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