serialized fiction (part 4 of 4)

I wandered down Brunswick Street past hungry eyes feeding out of café shop fronts. That’s when I saw him sitting on the kerbside. There were suddenly no static utterances. We were driving back from Mum’s house during that horrendous spring storm. The car lost control quicker than he could handle. The wheels screeched like a mother bird watching her eggs swallowed by a hungry snake. Next came the crunch of our roof against asphalt. The third...

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