LOBO -Predator Press
Fuck.
There is that sound again.
The sound of millions of screams inflicting agony.
I know that sound. That note.
It has been dacades.
And here was a guy a mere two houses down, in the front yard, enduring that sound like dragonfire as she bumped noses with him.
I saw his life die in his eyes.
Hope fell away as easily as his scorched flesh.
Should I give her my exes phone number so they can exchange notes?
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