“Cash.” Harsh words, eyes menacing behind a balaclava. I screamed as three men pushed through. My son rushed out, fists clenched. My husband flew down the stairs, feet first, kicking into the inrushing men. A struggle ensued until a glinting blade dispersed the combatants. “Where’s the safe?” The demand more urgent now. “None here,” we pleaded, handing over cash and mobile phones. We played for time, hoping that our daughter had escaped from the window and called for help. Luckily, she had. Sirens and flashing blue lights chased away the cowardly intruders. Traumatised but safe, we hugged and cried simultaneously.
Mangal Patel lives in London and has been published on the web and in a number of anthologies. She hopes her readers enjoy her work.