They walked innocently along the sidewalk with a naïve confidence. Thirty-six years and some odd days worldly experience shared among the three of them.

From waist to shoulder they sported tank tops of varying shades of white, straps made of the thinnest and most delicate angel hair pasta. The gentlest of tugs would have left their shoulders completely bare.

Below the waist they made themselves easily distinguishable by wearing pleated skirts identical in all but color. The lazy skirts hung only to their mid thighs, several inches above the knee, a length that had they been any older would have brought about serious questions concerning their morals.

Sabrina wore ivory over pink. Hailey, bone over black. Kayla, magnolia over blue.

On their feet each wore thin rubber soles that clung to their feet only by way of a thin strap clenched unconsciously between the two biggest toes. While the shoes offered no support for their arches, they provided the invaluable support of perfectly matching the skirt color.

The bold and steady red hand glared for them to stop, but the three crossed the street anyway. Either they were aware that there was no traffic or they felt confident that the traffic would stop for them. As they crossed the street, playfully giggling and chatting the whole way, a large black SUV slowed to a near stop as it neared the girls. The timid honk offered by the driver must not have been audible over their chirping voices, for not one of them so much as shifted her neck.

There was no difference in their attitude or behavior once they safely reached the sidewalk. Their talk seemed endless, affected not at all by where they were or what was happening. It was difficult to determine where one girl’s voice ended and another began. Had they walked just a little closer together, they may have been mistaken for a three-headed beast. Not a beast because of their hideous looks, for anyone could plainly tell that these three girls were quite cute in appearance, but a beast because of the abnormality that they did not possess as individuals.

Even as they walked and talked, the three managed to communicate to others through the small rectangles that each held. They could walk without looking where they were going and they could text without looking at their phones. These three truly possessed enviable talents.

The words they spoke seemed of an utmost importance that only they could understand. Nothing could halt the free-flowing words that were spoken at a rate far more rapid than their strides per minute. Oh My God, Like, and For Real flew abundantly along the sidewalk they strolled.

A song broke the endless speech. All eyes diverted to Sabrina, the one closest to the road, as she looked upon the phone-turned-music box in her hand that waited to be answered. The absence of the speech did not last long, for the song led to a barrage of teasing questions.

“Who is it?”

“Is it your boyfriend?”

“Can I talk to him?”

“Aren’t you going to answer?”

“Who sings that song?”

The questions continued, none of which Sabrina seemed interested in answering as she stared at the word “Dad” on the screen, not wanting to interrupt the song, not wanting her friends to see that word.

“Answer it,” cried an impatient voice, a voice that was accompanied by a playful push.

The phone left her hand quickly and silently as the car collided with her tank top and skirt simultaneously. Her blonde hair was soon flowing over the pavement, her body immobilized after feeling the crushing weight of the immense vehicle. As the phone collided with the asphalt, the “1 missed call” appeared on the screen, a call that would never be returned. The two mute girls stood mortified on the sidewalk, unable to activate the devices in their hands to call for help, their eyes gazing upon their soon to be lifeless friend.

BIO: Nathaniel Tower, chief editor of Bartleby Snopes, is a writer of fiction and teacher of English. He has stories published or forthcoming in Inscribed~A Magazine for Writes, Cantaraville, Darkest Before Dawn, Pens on Fire, and Cynic Magazine. He lives in St. Louis, MO with his wife.