War Damage

Cover War Damage
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Genres: Fiction
Cobwebs of thin fog clung viscously all day, softening the edges of the buildings into further decay, muffling the ring of his feet on the pavement.
Four little boys dragged a cart made from an old crate up and down the road, shouting. They were childishly dressed, in worn flannel shorts, thick socks slipping towards the ankles with bare knobbly knees in between, yet they looked like little old men.
‘Mister! Mister! Penny for the guy!’ As he drew alongside them, he saw the ‘guy’ was actually a
...much younger child in the cart, trussed up, face red, eyes screwed shut, round mouth opened to emit a yell.
He chucked them a couple of pennies and the dwarfish creatures scrabbled on the pavement for the coins. Abandoned, the cart lurched towards the gutter. The infant guy howled.
He walked on until he came to the house. It was a risk, going to the house. Suppose someone else, not Kenneth, answered the door. But Kenneth was expecting him. He looked up at the blank façade. It was slightly less slummy than its neighbours; less peeling, broken stucco; neater curtains at the windows.
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