NIGHT MISSION

Narrative Poem

NIGHT MISSION

It was 2 A.M. Raindrops swooped to the ground.

The smell of lavender filled the inside of my car.

Streets deserted from everything alive except some rats.

I held on tight to the leather steering wheel, leaned forward, attentive to the road.

Eyes sharpened for an open store, my baby daughter had a fever.

If I had to drive all night to find a store, I would.

 

Off into the blurry distance I noticed flashing lights of Walgreens.

I felt relieve dispersed through my body as I let out a faint exhale, “Ahh.”

All my muscles relaxed for a short moment.

I parked my car near the storefront, while using two parking spots.

I bolted inside the store and unintentional barked, “I need medication!”

The half-scared employee stared at me as if I was a weirdo.

“My baby daughter has a fever, I need something.”

 

After three minutes, I was back inside my car.

I realized I forgot to get my change. It wasn’t important.

I left the parking lot and zoomed back home.

Windshield wipers were at their fastest but still not fast enough.

As soon as I got to our building, I sprinted upstairs to our apartment.

“Were you not able to find anything?” My wife asked, more stressed than I was.

I looked at my hands, then smacked my forehead.

I left the medicine in the car.

I almost tossed myself down every flight of stairs.

My wife waited in front of our apartment, holding our precious, crying baby.

 

After an hour or two, our infant was sound asleep.

“Mission accomplished,” I said to my wife, smiling.