The Peregrine Review


Aimee Kulp


When the living room window beside her mother’s antique owl lamp shattered, she knew that the sun must be setting – and that she had forgotten to turn off the lamp before its glow escaped the boundary of her home. Another rock sailed through the window to her left, hitting the back of her leather armchair and rolling back to nudge the toe of her right shoe. With a sigh she reached down, took the rock in her hand, and began rubbing her thumb along the smooth surface. Tiptoeing through the broken glass, she made her way to the wall beside the owl lamp, and reached for its string. The pull of the lamp switch brought the roar of the crowd. “She’s in there, the thief!” a voice shrilled. “Monster!” came the lower belches of others. “Give us our light back you fiend!” came the demand of another.