Gotcha

By Gary Davison

He was extra quiet, listening carefully while leaning against the trap door. His hiding place was pitch black, with barely enough room to move. When the familiar music began to play, he could imagine her dancing and twirling around. Carefree, smiling, and totally oblivious. She was so innocent and so predictable; this was going to be easy.

Moving quickly, he jumped out—her eyes widened in surprise as he caught her off guard. With his arms reaching forward, his dark eyes stared coldly. Her stunned silence quickly turned to laughter as the Jack-in-the-box bounced, bobbed and wobbled in front of her.