Ficlets

Chris was nervous.

The white Ford van had pulled up to the usual handicapped spot at the apartment complex. He swallowed hard as he heard the familiar engine noise and stuck a finger between the blinds trying to remain inconspicuous.

He had been monitoring the van for a week now, and it was the same story since moving in. The van would pull up at different time intervals. Two noticeable occupants sat in the front seats; the heavy set bald man would shut the engine and a tall and rather unwashed partner would exit the passenger side only to open the cargo door.

The driver would be casually nodding into a cell phone, the conversation mostly masked by the metal and glass of the vehicle while his rather scruffy companion unloaded the stretcher.

What caught Chris’ attention was not the payload itself, but what was lying on it. It was a different elderly patient on every single visit. Yet, he couldn’t remember the last time he saw someone retrieve anyone that was brought into the neighboring walls.