The Garbage Truck's Roar
Then, a deep, rumbling roar sounded from the distant street. It grew louder. I whipped my head around—a massive, filthy green garbage truck lumbered past the alley entrance! Its giant metal compactor arm was lowering, having just emptied another dumpster. Its bulky body blocked my view, but I knew—my dumpster was its next target. Or worse, it had been here already!
Desperate Chase
"Wait! Stop!" I screamed, panic drowning reason. I tore down the street after the truck. Only my ragged breaths, pounding heart, and the truck's grinding engine filled my ears. "Stop! My stuff’s in there! Stop!" I yelled, waving frantically. The truck didn't slow. The driver probably didn't hear, or didn't care about a frantic child. Its heavy wheels rumbled like mocking thunder. The huge green shape swayed in my blurred vision, pulling away faster.
Back Inside
It rounded a corner and vanished. Only exhaust fumes lingered. Exhausted, legs like lead, I stopped in the middle of the road, chest burning. The wind at the alley mouth felt icy. Dejected, I trudged home. Pushing the door open, Lily still stood where I'd left her, leaning against my doorframe, the crumpled money still clutched in her hand. She stared, bewildered and uneasy, at my frantic exit and defeated return.
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