“Whipped!” we used to shout, mocking him, all those times he couldn’t join on bar nights.
When he could, she’d always call him home early.
Those phone calls cracked us up. We made women’s voices, and passionately screamed his name while he shushed us.
“Hanged,” police told us one day.
David Derey wrote this story.
Could not be much tighter. Well done!!
Thank you, Ron!
All who laughed at him aren’t laughing now. Moving story. Good job!
thanks!
Like a punch in the belly. Well done.
thank you, roy. That’s a very kind comment!
Whoa. That took me by surprise. Well done! There’s a novel of understanding packed in those 50 words!
Thank you so much!