Dry Leaves
by Luke O’Dell

      
      
Brandon is smelly.
He smells like onions and old Jello.
Franklin has a red fire truck;
He has named the truck Rex,
After a dog that does not exist.
Judith and Franklin play in the sandbox.
Judith is a damsel in distress,
Franklin is a fireman.
Judith left the iron on.
Her apartment is in flames,
Her baby is trapped and crying,
The photo of her and her ex-husband
Is melting into the burning dresser.
Her hair is smoldering
And her polyester pant suit
Is embedded in bits of her back.
Franklin sees the smoke
And deftly steers Rex
Through the sandy streets toward Judith’s apartment.
Rex pulls up,
But with no lights or siren,
Because the batteries are dead.
Franklin gets out and starts to run a hose,
But it is too late.
Judith has leapt to her death.
Brandon is busy by the swing set,
Stuffing dry leaves into his pants.

Luke O’Dell is a junior in the Western Washington University Creative Writing program.