by Alan Bardsley
He stared straight ahead as he slowly swirled the glass. The worn ice cubes caused a dull clank that could barely be heard amid the measured work of the windshield wipers and the radio’s raspy breath. Where the hell was everyone going? he wondered. He’d been in the car so long, so many years, it was a weary bone inside of him and he wanted to pull off to rest, but he knew there was no use in shutting his eyes to the world, he could still see what he had seen, no matter what layer of darkness he found. He threw back his head to accept the drink and punched the accelerator hard with his foot. That’s police work for you.
Alan Bardsley was introduced to 6S by a friend. He likes it.