The kid heard him leave in the darkness. There was a huff of breath, a short jolt, and then quiet. He lay there awake and looked out at the night and felt the stillness. It was heavy as a thick blanket, and in the depth of that quiet he was afraid to move, afraid to break it, of sacrilege, of piercing something that settled over him seamlessly, attached him to his dead father, who lay in silhouette against the glint of the moon.
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