The Sound of Her Voice
by Jennifer Hykes
I saw her van as I turned the corner by the convenience store. It was exactly as I remembered it: the coat of green paint cracked and faded now, but the logo unmistakable. It was burned into my memory like a brand.
I moved before I even realized my old instincts were kicking in, pressing myself against the brick wall and slowing my breathing so the sound would not give me away.
Every nerve in my body tingled. I watched. I waited.