"Come on," Archie shouted.
I stayed put. Catching up with Doug didn't seem such a good idea anymore.
"I'm going home," I said. I could hear the shake in my voice and hoped Archie couldn't.
"Come on," he repeated. Then, "We can't leave him here."
Yes we can, I wanted to say, but Archie pointed out that the traffic was thinning out, at least on our three lanes. Then he was gone. His legs pounded the tarmac, horns blared hysterically, and then I was running too, blindly, with the heat blistering like my Dad's blowtorch pressed hard into my face.
Neville Hunt over 1 year ago
Silly billies. I see tragedy on the horizon (or should I say more tragedy?)