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Weekly Contest #4
Kayloch made his way out to the truck and sat in the driver’s seat. He lit a cigarette. He took three long drags. He coughed and snorted, then flung the truck door open and spit. The tears stung as they filled his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. He picked up his phone. He stared blankly at the screen for a long moment. He ought to call her mother. He lay the phone back down on the console and flicked the ashes from his cigarette. He knew this surgery thing was a bad idea. Anytime a doctor cut a person open, it was a bad idea. How many...
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