A Short(er) Monologue

I ain’t never saw a body before that night. It sure looked like Jeff, but somethin’ was missin’. If I had to guess, I’d say it was his soul.

The drive to the lake was silent. I still had some blood on me from what Don called ‘evidence tampering". Just a single crimson splotch on my shirt. I couldn’t pull my eyes away from it, and it made me sick.

It felt dark that night. Darkest night I think I ever been a part of. Jeff—what used to be Jeff—hit the surface of the lake with a dull thud, and that was that.

I wondered then, is this what’s gonna happen to me? Shot by a friend, butchered like a hog by a kid you took in off the streets? I looked at that river a long time. Felt longer’n it really was. Felt like an eternity.

Finally I looked up at Don, looked into that hard face, and I asked him if that’s what happened to us in this line of work.

He looked right in my eyes, and he told me “No.”

It was the sweetest lie anyone ever told me.

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