Hushed Willows I'll stake rare toothpicks in my dirt-filled heart

A break in the trees reveals smears of scarlet and two bodies — still warm, still breathing. Children. Blossom.
And a girl he'd never seen before.
Oh, Jesus Christ, crouching, breathless, his neck cranes in search of his wife with a new surge of panic thrumming in his veins. get your herbs. We've got a problem here.