Continued from May 25, 2018
#AmWriting #Fiction #IndieAuthor
Marcus hung his jacket in the back of the car before getting in the driver’s seat. He took one more look at the outside of the house, his eyes lingering on the yard for a moment, before starting the car and backing out of the driveway.
It took him less than fifteen minutes to make the drive to the funeral home. The building sat on a small hill with a sign that sat on a small patch of grass out front. The black and brown exterior of the building looks sleek and refined.
Marcus felt another hollow thud from his chest, as though reminding him it wouldn’t be too much longer before he was here for another reason. He rubbed his chest and looked out away from the funeral home trying to clear his mind from the memories that had plagued him for the last four days.
The crinkle of a piece of paper in his shirt made him look down. He pulled a small piece of yellowed lined paper that had been folded from the pocket. He opened it to see a small drawing Dylan had done the last time he had worn the suit.
“How did I miss this?” He muttered staring at the crude drawing of a mother and father holding a boy’s hands.