Boys and Cars
Kathryn Gossow

There's a big funeral in town today. They are sending off a boy who almost became a man.
Meanwhile, cars creep, guilty, along the street. They prepare for the funeral procession; the one they will all remember; the one that holds up the traffic on the highway; the one people watch from the footpath, the engine heat pulsing through their bodies.
Later, a storm crashes into town, the wind hurls debris, and raindrops fall, cutting our faces into shards of glass.