Many moons ago, I wanted to write a short story collection where each story was tied to a song in some way. This was one of the few stories I managed to actually write.
“Son, we’re gonna have to put him down.”
Simon couldn’t move.
He wasn’t sure if he wanted to move, but he was quite positive that he couldn’t regardless. Staring down at his magic-markered and blood-covered fingers, he felt his mouth dry out. The white-coated man cleared his throat, undoubtedly wondering if he had been heard over the scratchy, electric notes falling over themselves on the way out of Simon’s oversized headphones.
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Photo by Lauren McConachie on Unsplash
