Dad grabbed the wheel from the passenger side after the tires rolled over her, said nothing, but steered us onto the shoulder, frightened, and when we gave the statement to the officer while the cruiser and ambulance lights bathed us, the clouds on the horizon seemed closer though they had been moving away from us earlier, the asphalt began cooling from some new front that hadn’t fallen yet, but would, the leaves blowing up from beneath, the updraft that signaled something would soon come down hard to wash the pavement, to wet the soil, to make some new life grow.
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Aaron Sandberg has appeared or is forthcoming in Maudlin House, Rust & Moth, The Offing, Asimov’s, Phoebe, Lost Balloon, Flash Frog, Phantom Kangaroo, and elsewhere. He is a multiple Best Microfiction winner (2024) and a Pushcart Prize, Best of the Net, and Dwarf Stars nominee. Find him—and his writing—on Instagram @aarondsandberg.
© 2024, Aaron Sandberg
Halfway Down the Stairs 