Here's an excerpt from what I wrote this evening
He was glad of that, as he was tired of crying from the horror of finding Debbie's body, her coldness and stillness and stench in their bed. She had to have done it right after he left for work, a night shift at WalMart. The shift differential gave them some extra dollars, but she hated that he worked nights while she worked days, cutting into their play-times together, sex and recreational sips and smokes.
It's not great art, but I worked most of the day today on the Press, and just let go with some words for this evening. It's hacky, but no worse than some of the crap I see on the supermarket shelves.
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