Tansy Undercrypt
Author, Illustrator, Purveyor of Doom & Whimsy


February 6th 2013 in Microfiction

They’d visited Billy in the hospital and, afterwards, paid a call. A stone through the bay window brought Billy’s dad out, using cuss words they’d never heard before. They stood their ground, spread across the front lawn. “You ain’t gonna hurt Billy no more,” Monroe said, breaking the silence. He was the oldest (at 14) and it was right that he should speak first. More swearing and some drunken spittle. “We know what you did,” Amy said plainly, “and you’re not gonna do that anymore.” He took a step towards her with his open hand raised, and the first rock hit him hard in the left temple, sending him stumbling backwards. The rock had been thrown by Harley Brooks, the youngest (at 6), who’d been practicing in the barn with balloons for over a week.

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