Molly walks through Central Park on her way
home, placidly munching a knishe. In a little
grove she pauses to take a picture. This part
of the park is empty. She stands for a minute,
noodling with her phone.

A twig cracks underfoot. Suddenly there is a
boy close by. Then closer. He looks like a
composite Threatening Teenager.

Heeeeey, he says. His eyes are pale blue.

Heeeeey, Molly mimics. There is no one else
in sight.

YO why you backing away from me? he says.

Why do you THINK I am? she says. Cause
I don't wanna talk to you.

FUCK YOU, he yells.

Exit Molly

The next exit is not until 72nd so Molly
climbs over the fence onto Central Park
West. She idles for a moment, scrolling
through photos on her phone, wondering
which one they'd print on the program for
her funeral.


Index