Extinguished Light
He broke into a piece of the earth with his shovel. The burial, he had decided, would take place in front of the farm. The surrounding soil was fertile enough, so the dig wouldn’t be too taxing, physically speaking. Halfway through, the father appeared to lose control of his basic motor skills. He dropped the shovel and immediately fell to his knees and began to dry-heave. The heaving gave way to a sudden and hostile appearance of vomit that expelled out of his mouth with a force that could only be described as audacious.
Running from Grief
There’s an odd disconnect between dealing with legitimate grief and typing “budget cremation wichita” into the search bar.
![I Believe… [Class Warfare Prime]](https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/579fa3912994ca0eff850271/1589033992492-RVTLTXFG7P5WKZ8ABJXG/IMG_0693.png)
I Believe… [Class Warfare Prime]
…that it’s not class warfare if you’re still ordering things from Amazon.
Andy disassembled his weapon with lighting speed. He packed it away in the black backpack made specifically for a weapon of this sort. He bolted to the roof access door as fast as his little, chubby legs would carry him. He made his way through the condo/office building stairwell without being noticed just as he had done on his way up. Andy was good at his job. And for a nine-month-old baby, he was really good at it.