Saturday, June 10, 2006

74 of 210 : Ricky

Jim felt something was wrong with the boy. Big head. Thin, almost translucent skin. Terminally peevish. “My little brother’s kinda twisted,” he said, worrying what Ricky would be like as an adult. One day he stole Jim’s bike, and was killed by a drunk driver in front of my house.

2 Comments:

At Saturday, June 10, 2006 7:55:00 AM, Blogger Indigo Bunting said...

Wow. I knew he'd lost a lot of his family, but I don't remember hearing this detail.

 
At Monday, June 12, 2006 9:32:00 PM, Blogger In Otter Space said...

Painful.

 

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