“What happened?” his vision dances and blurs.
“Ye died.”
“Nay.”
“Aye.”
The boy thinks of things he never did. Losing it with Becky. Killing his first, Seeing his maw again. His chin dimples.
“O’ now, ole pop toldya whimsy lad. Ye dinnae die, just gonna feel it for a bit.”
Stories 