ONOMATOPOEIA

Thump, thump, thump at the door. Knife jittered out of his thoughts, wondering if they could match the danger reality promised.

He had seventeen dollars in his baggie cotton pants. He had no way of escape but the window and he lived on the fourth floor. He wished he had something to dull the ride down; to help him soar and fly. He wanted time and he wanted to cry and again, thump, thump, thump, reminded him--

The piper had come.