The brillo pad screeches muffled as it moves off the rough dry blood and scrapes against the tub. Stressed hands hurt from squeezing too long. She’s dressed in black plastic over the bedroom rug while I make things presentable.
Logs in the fire in one room. Off stove but turned knobs in another.
Engine preheated. Trunk slammed. Packed bags ride shotgun. Rubber peels off the driveway in a white cloud of smoke foreshadowing the intended black cloud.