Member-only story
The Yellow Hibiscus
Tempest Under 1000 Words Flash Fiction
Monday, April 20, 2015
The New York City subway system was unpredictable tonight. The train signals were behaving like a moody teenager. It took me more than two hours to get home from Morris Park in the Bronx to my apartment on 83rd Street and 4th Avenue on the Eastside in Manhattan, a trip I usually made in minutes on a normal night.
Stressed out from the day to day grind of the city, it had taken two cups of chamomile tea to calm my nerves before I climbed into bed. I knew the following day would bring more of New York’s unpredictability.
I’d only just entered dreamland when the ringing of the telephone disturbed my restless but much-needed sleep.
“Who the hell could be calling me at this hour?” I snarled, grabbing the telephone. I propped myself up on my elbow in the middle of a shuddering yawn. Still groggy, I glanced at my LED-lit caller ID beside me on the night table. It read ‘Unavailable.’ I could hear the hiss of heavy breathing as I picked up the phone, but no one spoke. As I attempted to return the receiver to its cradle, I heard a voice said, “Miss Apika . . . Miss Shade?”
“Yes,” I answered gruffly.
“This is Sergeant Wade Willoby from the 59th Precinct in the Bronx. I am sorry to…
