The sky bled a filthy orange

through fissures in the clouds,

and a coward sun rushed below the horizon,

running from the day it had witnessed.

The police were outside my house again,

I knocked and my father answered -

his face was shale grey, and his voice

was empty and hollow; as if

an energy-vampire had drained

all feeling from his veins.

‘Come in,’ he said,

'they’ve found your sister.’

-ndru