Musical Accompaniment: Where Are You by Elvis Drew
To be truly seen is both a blessing and a curse.
CAMERON
A freshly fired gun smells like hot metal and oil. A smoky and bitter sulfur-like tang that fills your nostrils and your lungs and then coats the back of your throat so that everything you swallow for the rest of the day tastes like ashes.
And when I look at the men lying on the floor, it is all that I can think about. All I can taste. Lead and blood and burning.
I can’t look at them without wanting to curl up in a ball or fold in half and throw up all over the floor.
And if it wasn’t for the largeness of Earl crowding in on the edges of my vision, blocking them from my view and feeling my senses with nothing but the scent of him, sharp and clean, I probably would have vomi
