published in Storm Cellar Vol. VI No. 2, “Partition Table”
{B} has taken up her quarters in a vacant house. Marine blue and with seven bedrooms, empty since a boy fell from an attic window during a frat party the year before. She chooses a room on the second floor with pale yellow walls, a cavernous fireplace, and a discoloration on the wood floor the shape of South America. Her partner {O} remains across the street, in the white three-bedroom saltbox they just finished redecorating in jewel tones.
With some research, {B} learned this was a common occurrence, people falling from windows and roofs and balconies at frat parties. Also rapes. She read an article about a boy down South who was severely burned after inserting a bottle rocket in his rear. His classmate, who was filming the event, had to be extracted by firefighters from between the deck and the air conditioning unit when he wedged himself there in attempted escape.
{O} was the first adult on the scene. She saw the boy in a shrub and conscious still, with arms and legs akimbo, and sucked in her breath. She knew a broken back and a miracle when she saw one. A girl knelt beside the boy, emitting shrieks at five-second intervals. Kids scattered from the house like rats in a flood…
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