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September 2015, vol 11 no 3

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Crystal Simone Smith

When Darkness Comes


Sunset –
a sad clown
face paints a boy

We lived for the annual company picnic, gourmet food trucks, games, wine, and music until darkness fell – all free not counting employee blood, sweat, and tears. Michael, the family man, gripped a red wagon one year carrying two of his six children. So much depended on his hand – mortgages, baseball practices, every email account in the company. Still, no one saw it coming. After custody losses, second divorce, that same hand pulling a trigger to quiet the voice that kept telling him: do it, just do it, silence everything.


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