Pockets Full 2

The girl walked towards him, chattering, rubbing her bare arms. Dzinski looked around for a blanket a jacket, but the room was empty. It wasn’t even a room, now that he looked closely. It was just a space, somewhere between gray and white. Standing almost nose to nose, he saw her irises, were frosted over like a window in a drafty room.

Dzinski kicked at the twisted sheets. He stomped to the kitchen, and pulled the pint of bourbon from the cupboard. He filled a tumbler and emptied it.

It’d been two days since he’d found her.

Cold.

Alone.

Dead.

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