She darted around the kitchen, pouring milk, tossing cereal, packing lunchboxes. She smiled as her husband entered the room, dodging around their kids and the cat. Mornings were always chaotic, but it was her favorite time of day, all the same.
“The snapdragons are looking great this year,” he said, glancing out the kitchen window. “I’m still not sure how you do it.”
“Oh, just my secret compost recipe,” she said lightly, passing him his coffee.
The doorbell rang, jarring them all from their routines.
“Who’s that?” the kids asked in unison.
“I don’t know,” she said. “Can you go check? I need to get these lunches packed.”
“Sure thing.”
“Thanks! Okay, if you keep fighting over the last waffle, I’m going to eat it.”
She forgot all about the doorbell, until her husband entered the kitchen with two strangers. Two strangers wearing shiny badges and guns on their hips.
Her mouth dropped open, and she couldn’t help herself; she glanced out the kitchen window, taking a shallow breath as she saw more people wearing uniforms digging up her garden. Specifically, the snapdragons.
They know.
Inspired by a prompt from Squibler.
© The Lightning Tower, 2020