I’m frozen outside the closed door. Oh Mateo, what have you done!

Roof running! What on God’s merciful earth was that? When he left home this morning he said he was going for a run, trying to explain something called free running to me. Mateo, don’t be up to no good, I warned him, and he insisted that it was a legitimate sport.

That’s Mateo, always out to live life. He cant resist a challenge, or a dare, even if gets him into trouble. I doubt any other mother has been called to the principal’s office as much as I.

Just last month he had been suspended for an entire week for holding some senior’s weed in his locker. Why Mateo, I ask him, and he says it’s so his friend’s college applications don’t get affected. Doesn’t a good heart count for anything, he asks me. He’s a good boy my Mateo, but he drives me crazy.

I warned him, last time Mateo, I get called by the principal one more time and you are in serious trouble.

One month later I’m standing outside another cold white door. Only this time the words on the door read ‘Mortuary’.


In response to the 123rd Challenge of Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers based on a photo prompt by Grant-Sud.

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15 thoughts on “Mateo

  1. Poor guy. And I totally don’t approve of these free running and parkour stunts. But that might be because of my own fear of heights. A well woven tale, this one is. Mateo was a good person. Cheers, Varad

    Like

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