“Tony, you jerk, meet your son.”
The sky was cloudless above the executive lot, but the air crackled around the words.
Tony fumbled his iPhone, and it fell toward the brilliant concrete.
He caught it, held it against his heart.
There stood Sandra behind his silver S-Class, rolling a big navy-blue stroller forward a few inches and then pulling it back, coming closer each time to the rear-bumper of the coupe.
My baby! he thought.
I wrote this story for the 100 Word Challenge: “Parent” at Thin Spiral Notebook.