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Omar's Helmet
Omar wants the river path before the evening gets dark. His sister, Leila, is already in the hall with her bicycle. His bicycle is beside hers. His helmet is not on the hook where it belongs.
"We are not leaving until you have it," Leila says. Her own helmet is on. The strap sits flat under her chin. She is not shouting. She is simply waiting, with one hand on her bicycle.
Omar opens the hall cupboard. He finds a cap, a pump, and an old water bottle. He holds the cap up and tries a smile.
"That is not a helmet," Leila says. "Put it back and look again."
He checks his sports bag next. Inside there is a spare shirt and a pair of gloves. He shakes the bag. There is no hard shape and no strap.