Babel

She thought she could pick him out in any crowd. She was so certain she knew that smile, that mop of light brown hair, those ears that stuck out just a little bit farther than they should. He had such a distinctive walk, carried himself in that particular way. She never imagined it would be so hard.

But now, in the midst of this chaos, the shouts and cries and fires and smoke, she cannot find her little boy. She screams out, one more voice of panic and desperation. Mildly she feels the blood on her arms, the pain in her side. But it's nothing compared to how she might feel if she loses him.

And he's not lost, she tells herself. He's just hidden. Waiting for her to find him. Like when he used to disappear into the clothing racks of the department stores. This is just another game. Eventually, she will win.