“Welp,” Davis says, “I guess we better bury her, huh?” He’s not even sweating.
“What?” I say. I am sweating like a bitch.
“Bury her,” he says, spits in the dust, “Otherwise she’s going to stink in this heat.”
“We are not burying her, Davis,” I stand up and approach him. He turns the gun on me.
“Not so fast, chief,” he says, “you got another idea?” He’s right. It’s the only thing to do, even though we have a deadline.
“And just where are we going to get a shovel?” I say.
“You got hands,” he says, “Don’t ya?”
***
Title by: LLAbbott
Story by: Jeremy
I like this story!Related posts:
0 Responses
Stay in touch with the conversation, subscribe to the RSS feed for comments on this post.