I pulled up to the duplex in my truck, coffee cold in my gut. Mrs. Gable met me on the porch in her floral robe, clutching a flashlight like a weapon. She didn’t point it at the house. She pointed it at the empty air.
“It’s the window,” she said. “The inside .” broken double pane window
“Did a kid throw a rock?” I asked, already knowing the answer. I pulled up to the duplex in my truck, coffee cold in my gut
Tink.
Tink.
Or let something in.
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