No images. There was life that didn't run or hide, it was all alive, alive in a way that most humans never understand. He moved so he was sitting Indian fashion on the floor. I'd argue that, too.
He opened his hand and just let my arm fall back. Sometimes. The sleeve on his right arm was ripped away too, and there were more marks there. The radios on the black and whites crackled to life, and what we heard was enough to stop the squabbling.
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