The sounds of yelling and gun fire erupt in the silence of the
parking garage. Dropping flat on the ground, Betsie begins to say all the prayers she remembers from the past twenty three years of Catholic Mass. As a body drops to the ground, the black sports car with the silver trim drives away. Betsie hides on the ground near the edge of a large blue sedan, praying no one can hear her. The silence after such a deafening noise grates on Betsie’s nerves. Without thought for herself, she rushes over to the body to see if they need help. “Oh, my, gosh, it’s Johnny from the warehouse!"
Musings from Michigan