The police van parked next to the hopeless crime scene.
Two officers exited; one of them grew up next door.
She had a face that projected duty; everyone was quiet.
They put on gloves, pointed and wrote notes; time hovered.
She addressed me; “The gun?”
I stuttered; shaking my head.
After writing down more notes; the officers lit the scene.
They watched it burn for a few minutes; then left.
The flame would burn for generations. Engulfing our little town.