In hindsight, he should have made them both stay on the porch while he put it away. Now, with the caution tape everywhere, and his mouth dry from answering the same questions the same way over and over and over again, he wondered how he hadn’t realized it to begin with.
He looked at Ryan, all of sweetly four, and at the shape under the white-turned-red sheet, half fitted into the black plastic zipper bag, and when the little one asked him if Daddy was okay, he kept his mouth tightly shut, but the screams kept falling from his eyes, anyway.
* * *
Chuck Wendig, over at Terrible Minds, gives out writing challenges every Friday. This is one of those — A complete story in 100 words, something that makes you FEEL.
I’m not particularly happy with it. I fussed with it a lot, but it’s not what I wanted. I think I’ll try again.
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