#closers

No one's said anythin since the sun went down. News long since traveled to Johnny, Steve, n Two, gathered n pressed in, all of them exchangin looks that could mean nothin. If they wanted to pretend. Even Two's jokes are absent, the record players skippin, scratchin, tearin along worn nerves 'til someone lifts the needle. At some point Pony's dropped off to sleep right there on the couch, Curly pressed against one side, head restin on his shoulder, Soda bracketin in the other, arm draped around his lil brothers shoulders. Darry shuffles back n forth through the kitchen, absently touchin his chest pocket now n then. Soda watches him, eyes dartin back n forth.