Trustworthy Forehead

I heard the scream and knew immediately what was happening. Mrs. Tulu lives in a ground-level apartment on the side closest to the alleyway. Although we technically reside in the showiest side of town, our building lies on the border of the west end of Hemlock County, where police are corrupt and criminals run wild. As a result, we are the residents who have to pay the price; trouble-makers often cross the border to wreak havoc and retreat without being held responsible. Luckily, now that I feel confident in my abilities to help, I can.

I jump out of my third-story window and land on the sidewalk. I can hear Mrs. Tulu yell, “You can’t have it! It’s mine!” I leaped around the corner to find a crouched grasshopper-like creature that easily towered a foot above the poor, frail, seventy-something year-old woman. They were wrestling over her purse. Why do they always try to take old ladies’ purses? And how is little Mrs. Tulu managing to put up such a good fight?

It was time to end this. I was tired and hungry.

“Hey!” I screamed, and stomped my foot on the sidewalk, cracking it in the process. Both the grasshopper and Mrs. Tulu looked at me. I closed my eyes, and began to think about the concept of good and evil. I felt the images display on my trustworthy forehead and knew from their silence that they were watching. Moments later, I opened my eyes, and Mrs. Tulu had her purse in her hand, and the creepy, grasshopper creature-thing was gone.

I turned to walk home and called back, “Mrs. Tulu, when are you going to stop getting into trouble?”

“When I stop getting the short end of the stick.” she grumbled.

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