My eyes are covered
with the blood of my hands, my
palms hold
my jaws.
Susan Griffin, Deer Skull
Denise’s face turned ghostly pale. Her staccato breathing mixed with the gurgles of blood in her throat until it finally stopped. She was gone. Liz’s body rocked with silent sobs as Carrie knelt and pulled her close. Glen stepped toward the second floor window where Denise had pointed toward the man in the cardigan. The man stepped away from the window into the darkness of the second floor. Glen fumed with rage and stomped back to the front of the house. He met the man coming out of the ramshackle house.
“What the hell happened? What did you see?” he asked the man.
The man walked past Glen with urgent steps around the side of the house. Glen followed closely behind, yelling.
“Don’t you ignore me!!”
But the man pressed on until he arrived at the swing set and joined Liz and Carrie at Denise’s side. He placed two fingers on Denise’s slim neck, feeling for a pulse that wasn’t there. A dull, heavy silence hung over them.
“Are you going to answer my questions?” Glen asked the man. “What did you see?”
“I saw nothing,” he replied in a quiet drawl. “I only heard the scream. I reched the window and saw her lying here. Something disappeared in that direction.” He pointed toward the house behind them, separated from their overgrown yard by bushy weeds and rusted chain link fence.
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