<![CDATA[Where’s Mommy?]]>

<![CDATA[Where’s Mommy?]]>How should I know what happened last night? I was in my bed, I tell you! I didn’t even get up for a drink! Did I hear anything? Oh, you mean the firecrackers? That was neat! Johnny set one off once, but I’m not allowed to. I guess Mommy and Daddy get to do what they want, though. Wish they’d let me set one off. Hey, I’m not supposed to talk to you. Mommy said never talk to anyone I didn’t know.

You’re a policeman? Wow! Can I see your gun? You’re not wearing it? Boy, if I was a policeman I’d wear it all the time. Bang, bang, you’re dead. Is it really loud? As loud as a firecracker? Huh. I bet it’s not as loud as the ones I heard last night.

Voices? Why would I hear voices? Oh, were Mommy and Daddy talking about the firecrackers? I don’t think so. Yes, they were talking, but I didn’t listen. Honest I didn’t. Johnny listened when his parents had a fight, and now he only gets to see one at a time. Now I put my head under the covers when their voices get mad. Well, yes, they did sound kind of mad last night. That’s why I didn’t listen.

Where’s Mommy?

This something I wrote for Summer Arts Festival. The Assignment? Write a story that will fit on a postcard.

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