FINN
A year passed. After I was discharged from my service, the band resumed its gigs.
Tonight is another eclipse. Even though I know he wouldn’t come, I am worried about Zander. Three months ago, an eclipse occurred, and they rushed him to a hospital. He stopped breathing. Luckily, it only lasted for a minute. Alex didn’t come. Zander said all he saw was darkness.
My phone lights up. It is Lance, telling me not to worry. They are already in an emergency room in case the same thing happens again. A minute later my phone rings, Zander’s name popping up.
“Z,” I say. “Everything okay?”
“Finn.”
“Yep. It’s me. Are you alright?”
“Finn.”
I’ve always wondered how it would feel to be electrocuted by one of those defibrillators I saw on TV. This must be it. I sit on the pavement as my knees
