“We leave in five minutes,” he said.
Grey hairs muzzled out of his nostrils like worn felt. He smelled like ammonia. A holstered Leatherman dangled from his belt.
He was my last chance.
I glanced past him, at the smoke rising from the snowy yard.
“I can’t go,” I said.
Sean Higgins lives in an old farmhouse in Ypsilanti, Michigan with his wife and three insane cats. He works as an editor for a Research Firm. His work has been published in Bartleby Snopes.