Birthday Boy By Russell Kinch

I could tell they weren’t coming. I didn’t say anything though.

He was holding a toy truck and spinning the wheels back and forth while he stared out the window.

I thought maybe I should distract him, but I knew he’d cry if I took him away from the window.

I asked Melissa, his carer, what I should do. She said “You never know. Just be patient.” She had this hopeful look on her face.

I went and sat on the stairs and watched him staring out the window. I wanted to go read, find something to do, but I knew I couldn’t concentrate.

I asked him if he’d like to hear a story, but he just kept staring at the window, ignoring my hand on his arm.

The wheels on his truck spun back and forth, rolling on his hand while he stared out the window.

I knew they weren’t coming when it got dark. I think Melissa knew too. She didn’t say anything, but when I looked over, her smile was gone.

He kept the wheels on his truck spinning now, hitting them with his hand, keeping them spinning while he looked out the window, at his own reflection.

© 2013 Russel Kinch

Russell Kinch is an amateur writer, working to improve his craft. He was born in New Zealand, but lives in Melbourne, Australia. He has a Bachelors degree in Anthropology and History, but feels writing is what he’s really passionate about. He’s intrigued by the practice of telling a story with so few words.

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