Leah rushes over to Rob, who is holding his nose and attempting to stem the flow of blood.
“What the fuck was that?” he shouts.
“I don’t know,” Leah replies, “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“I’ll get a towel,” she says as she rushes into the kitchen.
She is soon back with a teatowel which she passes to Rob. He applies it to his nose, which seems to have stopped bleeding. Meanwhile, Phil remains unconscious on the ground.
Leah approaches him, “I had better check he is still breathing.”
Continue reading “Tracks, a short story: Part 12”
