“Are you crying?”
No answer, just that familiar muffled sound.
“Christ, Zach.”
Gentry sighed, and looked out the window at the flashing light of the police siren. Officer Shandy was helping the woman ease the carcass into an extra-strength trashbag, their movements and shadows warped by the flickering light. After a few more minutes of hushed sniffling, Gentry reluctantly looked back at him again.
“I’m sorry.”
He then slumped against the window, averting his eyes.
The soft reply barely reached him:
“I know.”
4 comments:
nice post
very short
but a least you posted!
post more soon!
~sweetzsugar
awww! zach!!!
the poor boy needs a hug, not that he would take it, but he needs one anyway!!
those two are having one hell of a night, that's for sure. i think zach's glad gentry's there though. he's at least showing some kind of compassion, which means that he understands him in some kind of way.
oy...
poor zach. poor deer.
what a night...
-PinknPunk
hey still here and reading!
Loved this story! Do write more. You have a nice style.
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