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The Usual
Carroll sat in her usual spot with her usual book, with her usual pencil, with her usual bag. It was a usual sunny day in the suburbs; the perfect day to sit by the fountain in the square and do her usual reading. She would follow her usual plans: read for a bit, then watch the people stroll by on a usual Sunday afternoon. Nothing unusual. It was what she did on Sundays.
Carroll crossed her legs and began to read her book. She was only able to read a few sentences before her mind started wandering. Today was the day. She could feel it. Today was the day that she would meet him and he would forever be hers. She glanced up from her book, which she usually didn’t do, and looked around. Just women and children were walking, having a nice stroll in the park. Some of the families she knew by heart. Sometimes, they would even smile at her. She always smiled back, because that is the usual thing to do.
Behind the playground where numerous kids were playing was a family of ducks. Carroll reached inside her bag to obtain the usual 24 pieces of broken up bread to lovingly feed the ducks. Her hand groped around the bag, but it wasn’t there. That wasn’t usual. Carroll knew she had packed them, she always did. Her mind went blank. She didn’t know what to do. Carroll directed her attention to the middle of the park, watching children jump rope and play games, giggling as they came up with silly games, and saw him. His brown hair parted just right, almost effortless. The way he walked on the path made her skin have goose bumps. His plump lips parted as he sucked in a lungful of wonderful air. His forehead held no signs of stress. His eyes light, sparkling with freedom. It was him, the one she was waiting for. Carroll saw the first boy she would ever kill.
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