Cold Case

The back door was open.

Bill went to it.

The other buildings of the Creamery had been torn down long ago, and the land smoothed over. Deep hills rose on either side. The ground was coated with frost.

Something lay unmoving in the field.

It looked like a man.

“Shit, I said, and ran over to him. It was James Raymond alright. He was wearing a denim shirt, jeans, and slippers. He had three holes in him. One high in his back, another lower, and one square in the middle of his forehead.”





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This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)