Streets as Clean as These - Page 7

by Sean Cahill

Frank woke up with a splitting headache. As his vision came into focus, he saw that he was on the ground in a fenced holding area, much like the one in his neighborhood. Only this one had many more people. Homeless, by outward appearances. Everyone except him. 

This was a terrible misunderstanding, he thought. But someone would come, eventually, who would sort it out. A government official, a Collections officer, someone with a clipboard. A clipboard with names, maybe. And they’d realize he didn’t belong here. All he had to do was wait.

But no one came. And as the night dragged on, slow and endless, Frank eventually fell asleep on the concrete.

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Sean Cahill is a writer based in Southern California. His work has appeared in The Wrong Quarterly and is forthcoming in the debut issue of Low Tide. He writes literary and speculative fiction exploring alienation, loneliness, and what it means to be human. Sean recommends the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.