Moose

"Hurry." The man in the blue jumpsuit jumped into his vehicle and pulled away from the hospital, the woman in the back checking bandages and morphine shots. The street quickly became pregnant with sirens as the three ambulances pushed towards Thallow Flats. High on the telephone wires, a raven cocked his head. The sky boiled.

At the Flats, there was a small girl on the ground. There was a boy leaning over her, with a bleeding face. There was a man, old and shocked, and a sobbing gashed woman with a hopelessly crushed man beside her. There where tears.

The paramedics circle d slowly, as if to protect everyone from worse than had already happened. They lit on the fallen people like healing sparrows; moved here and over there.

Bridgette looked up, saw Moose, then saw the boy she had named Moose after.

"You came back," she said, confused. It hurt a little to say anything.

"I didn't want to. You're different now." The boy's smiling face was like smoke. Brie could see the sky clearly through his chest. She smiled, and closed her eyes.

"I'm still glad you came back."

She fell back asleep, and the man in the blue jumpsuit slid her onto the white stretcher and into the blinking ambulance, where the woman was waiting with oxygen masks.