Flash! Fiction by Peter McMillan - HTML preview
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22
Just before reaching the middle, the long-long-short-long sequence of a train whistle overtakes them. Turn in the direction of the sound and wait. Five, 10, 15 seconds pass and then the bright, white headlight of a locomotive fills the opening behind them.
Christopher? It's OK. I know you’re busy, but you'll want to hear this. Eric went back to the train tunnel. He shot himself in the head with a starter's pistol.
Yes, he's dead.
No, I don't think so. Just couldn't keep silent any longer. You know how hard it was for him. But he wouldn't break a confidence. That's why we never doubted him.
No need to worry about that. We weren't even interviewed after the accident. Nothing to connect us. No doubt. Suicide.
A shame … yeah.
It's OK, I'll be there. And I’ll let them know you wanted to come.
Don't worry. Won't happen again.
First published in Dew on the Kudzu - A Southern Ezine, October 5, 2011.
