(Author’s Note: Hey folks! Hope you’ve been paying attention and watching things. Even in the weirdness of school, I have had time to write. You all should be able to read my latest piece, Her Last Performance. The music will really make that one pop. Otherwise, here’s this week’s Fictioneers offering! Enjoy!)

© Claire Fuller

Playing It Safe

by Miles H. Rost

“Got another one for you.”

The desk clerk looked up from his newspaper, and at Riley Martin, the ambulance driver.

“Where did you find them?”

“Park Bench, Glen Martin Park, Irish Street side.”

There have been at least four that came from there, Riley thought.

“What was their condition?”

“Paralyzed, but with tears on the face and a voice saying ‘Brenda.'”

“Got a name on him?”

“Yep. Tyrone Brandon, aged 19. Student at the local U. Where should I put him?”

“Cell 6. We’ll prepare him soon.”

The paramedic wheeled Tyrone to the cell, and closed the doors, turning the wheels.

Another guest, checking into the Heartbreak Hotel.