Two malicious bullets ripped through the glorious Sun one evening

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.

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