I heard the roar of his motorcycle before I saw him, quieting to a murmur as he parked beside the shed. I knew he would use the overrun bushes nearby to hide his bike and I heard the crinkle of the leaves as he walked to the door. Five steps separated his bike from the door and I counted them in my head.
Five…four…three…two…and then he was standing there in the doorway, with his windswept hair, leather jacket and arms that felt like a safe house from the world. One day, we won’t have to hide.
© Jade M. Wong