Mother and Child

I give to you a story in 2x eleventy-one words...

A singular dollop of crisp rain splashed upon her greasy head; it woke her from deep slumber. She thought herself at home beneath the leaky ceiling. When she heard a girl shriek, her plump body came to rigid attention. She sought the scream’s origin but saw only blurred flashes dashing about. The banshee wail came again. A few blinks and she focused on a young lad soaking some fleeing girl with a multi-colored super soaker. The woman’s torso relaxed as she let fly an audible sigh. She leaned back against the bench and let the warm breeze play upon her lips. That’s when it dawned on her. The stroller was gone.

She stood abruptly. Myriad stars littered her consciousness. The bench aborted her fall. A cop approached, asked her if all was well. She lied poorly, stammering through stilted English that it was. He considered her, smiled crookedly, and departed. Deportation, she posited, was not what she needed. She dialed and spoke after the answerer’s hello, someone took your child. Silence followed. Then, I’ll call the cops; please come. The nanny knocked, listened for footsteps, watched as the cop from the park opened the door. She entered. There sat mother and child flanked by the stroller. You’re fired, the mother sobbed. The cop continued, ma’am I need you to come with me.