(no subject)
Somehow the stars shone a little brighter on his way home. Somehow they seemed to twinkle and speak to him, calm him. He still felt the bitter chill but he felt warmed by his own embrace.
He knew something was wrong when he walked the last corner and say the firetrucks, police, and ambulances huddled for their own kind of warmth. Huddled in front of his house. The flowers fell into a dingy pothole, full of black water. Gut churning full sprint. It was his. Police held him back as the bodies were wheeled into the matchbox ambulances.
He was 8 again. Crashing cars together and laughing. Laughing so hard that milk shot from his nose. He threw them at his sister's doll house and his favorite part was when the walls of the house would break under the assault of the tiny cars and trucks.
He was spanked hard that night, but he didn't cry. Not once. It had been worth it.
That's all he thought. It was worth it. He wouldn't change a thing.
He knew something was wrong when he walked the last corner and say the firetrucks, police, and ambulances huddled for their own kind of warmth. Huddled in front of his house. The flowers fell into a dingy pothole, full of black water. Gut churning full sprint. It was his. Police held him back as the bodies were wheeled into the matchbox ambulances.
He was 8 again. Crashing cars together and laughing. Laughing so hard that milk shot from his nose. He threw them at his sister's doll house and his favorite part was when the walls of the house would break under the assault of the tiny cars and trucks.
He was spanked hard that night, but he didn't cry. Not once. It had been worth it.
That's all he thought. It was worth it. He wouldn't change a thing.