Prompt: Why was that hat on the table?
It was our first day at the death trap, a camp that should only fit a few people in it, but there were hundreds of starving refugees.
“Come on, Stack,” my mum said, “We need to feed everyone and get home at six, or the police will see we’re not there!” She sounded concerned.
After an hour, Mum and I left. In the car she remembered about the police. “Finally, we’re home,” I said, but she didn’t notice me. She was looking at the kitchen counter, “Why was that hat on the table? A police hat!” mum whispered.