Looking for Trouble

“Whoa! That’s it momma! Shake ‘em!”

The young woman in the tight black turtleneck stopped short, her head swiveling as she sought the source of the comment, a ready comeback on her lips. But it was late; the park was empty. No playgroups, worn-out moms and sugar-fueled kids. No perverts with hidden cameras videoing awkward first dates. Not even a derelict, half-drunk on cheap wine, polluting a bench. That last in particular was unusual for the time of night. She shrugged with a little shiver, and started to walk more slowly onward.

“That’s the stuff! Come on. Take me home with ya!”