:7:

“You people are driving me crazy,” Barb said with her teeth clenched tight. “I need some air.”

She decided to leave them standing there in the living room, and retreat to the backyard. But before bolting outside, she made a quick turn into the kitchen. She needed something to take her mind off everything.

Barb had outlawed them from the children’s lunches months ago, after reading yet another report on juvenile obesity. She had already suspected little William was headed down the wrong path, with his requests for extra pats of butter, and second helpings of mashed potatoes. So she sternly (yet lovingly) put her foot down, and decided to ban all sugary and salty snacks from the house. John put up a fight nearly as bad as the kids. She feigned a sense of loss as well, keeping her secret stash hidden in the deepest, darkest corner of the pantry.

And she was in luck: there was one small bag of Ruffles Potato Chips left. After quietly tucking it under her sweater, Barb dashed out the sliding glass door. She stood on the far end of the patio, and gazed up at the early evening sky. She popped open the bag. The aroma of crispy, greasy potato chips tickled her nose.

Within a minute, she had consumed the entire bag. She looked up at the sky again, and noticed how the blue turned to orange which turned to black.

She heard a loud bang, then shouting come from inside. She knew she had to go back in and deal with that mess. She casually tossed the bag of chips over the fence into the Johnson’s yard. As she slid the door open, she quickly turned back around. Barb swore she saw something out of the corner of her eye.

TF