Two Days After

I got to the house about four PM on the second day of November. The Halloween stuff in the yard gave me an odd feeling.

It had been a few years since I’d seen him. We hadn’t had a falling out, exactly. We’d just stopped talking.

His wife answered the door, eyes puffy. “Thanks for coming,” she said.

“Of course.” I looked at the couch, the pillows and blankets.

“The bedroom is sealed,” she said. “I guess it’s a crime scene.”

“Are you going to move?” I asked, regretting it.

Her swollen eyes pooled. “The kids,” she said. “The kids.”


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