Abscission

“All I said,” he said, switching the telephone to his other ear. “Were the things I would have regretted saying if he hadn’t pulled through.”

He waited as the other party went through their speech.

“Maybe if you hadn’t acted as though the grave dug was already dug, I would have approached it differently.”

The dog scratched at the back door, so he walked across the apartment and opened it. The rain had let up. Fat drops fell from the leaves, already orange. A squirrel ran along the fence. The dog’s barking drowned out the other end of the line.

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