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April 30, 2007

Jeff R.: Secrets Hot Enough to Burn

The smells of gasoline and barbequed pork hung heavily in the air. All three cars were bonfires, and just one second away from becoming infernos. A saner man would have run right then, bullet in the shoulder or no bullet in the shoulder.

I walked around to my trunk. Holding my keys through a double layer of shirt, I opened the trunk. It still burned my hand enough to leave a mark, but it was open. The disk with the Lenox file was still there, in its case. I grabbed it and ran down the road, toward the Louisa Diner.

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