The Last Time I Saw You
Dusk. Light fading. Water running steadily. Leaves swaying in soft wind. No other movement. Green shirt. Threadbare blue jeans. Short hair, the outline of a skull. Green eyes, bloodshot. A backpack, half full. Empty cans. Beer, food. Plastic bags. Syringes. The money, paper notes half rotted away. A handgun, small, possibly a 32. The smell of motor oil and cat food. Blood. More blood. And the silent finality of night.ality of night.f night.ight.