fwriction

I watched as he sang and danced and laughed at his own lyrics. He seemed, at that moment, distant from the man he had been.

“You know what the problem was with Maddie,” Andre said, trying to make eye contact with me. “She loved me.”

He sat down on the couch, his ass sliding closer to the edge. He closed his eyes. An odd grin, almost baleful, crossed his face. He repeated those last words again, softly, like an exhale.

Andre was dead by morning.