longer be heard. His screams were stolen by suffocating dirt, and all became very silent.
As good as worm meat. Early worms get him.
FRANK WALKED into a police station in a long coat, dirt caked his squeaking boots and under his fingernails was layers of sand. In his hand there was a note and a gun.
“I’m here to report a murder.” He said to an officer. He dropped the note on the floor and raised the gun to his temple.
“And a suicide.”
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