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It Doesn’t Take Much Some Days – Fiction

It Doesn’t Take Much Some Days

The night that Buck broke down wasn’t really different from most other nights.  Later, at a far distance, he would see that night as an accumulation of nights .  Of moments and conversations and expectations.

“Don’t come near me, Sissy!”  The tone of Buck’s voice alarmed me.

“Buck?:”  I impulsively moved closer to him.

“Don’t come near, Sissy.”

“What should I do, Buck?  Let me call somebody?”

“Maybe so.”

I sensed him in some faraway place.  “I’m going to call the EMS people or something, Buck.  Just hold onto my hand, sweetie  Just hold on.”

And he did, thank God.


About Ellespeth

I'm a poet. Sometimes I write stories and other nonsense. Ellespeth

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