Read by Dave Thompson
Originally published in Ideomancer
My ex-wife tells me on the phone that she thinks she saw a kid in her yard last night. She’s got a lot of stuff in the shed that’s worth money, like her boyfriend’s tools and some nice bikes, and she’s always going on about how her neighbors are coming over to steal stuff.
“It couldn’t have been a kid,” I say. “Maybe that old guy from across the street? He’s pretty small.” I’m encouraging her, I know, but it’s possible it was that old guy. I once caught him peeping into the dining room window, and when I confronted him, he said he thought he smelled gas. That was when Steph and I were still together.
“I know how an old man moves,” Steph says. “I know how a kid moves. This was a kid.”
Rated PG: For the Kids in the Yard