Hiromi Kato
My hands shake. Kenji should be here by now. I sit down on top of a concrete picnic table next to the playground and then scan the empty park for any sign of Kenji. The swing sets sit empty, slowly swaying in the breeze. No one’s outside laughing or chasing each other around the jungle gym. After the attack at the hospital, I’m sure most people would want to stay inside. As if concrete walls kept anyone safe from the virus. A few cars drive past on the main road outside of the park followed by a produce delivery truck. Despite the outbreak scare, we still need to eat.
I scan the deserted park once more. If it wasn’t for the bright green trees and pale pink sakura petals, this would make a perfect nightmare.
I shove my hands under my arms to keep them from shaking. If anyone were to see me, they’d probably think I was freezing by the way I’m sitting. It’s funny because I’m wearing a short sleeve tee shirt. Where is he? I wonder. The wind rustles the trees and for a short moment, I swear I smell death. Rotting flesh from over the large wall most likely.
Footsteps crunch on the gravel walkway. I spin around.
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