The Death of Two Men, or An Errand
All he heard was the crunch of heavy, ice-glazed snow beneath his shoes as he trudged down the sidewalk, peering into the dark, empty windows on either side of the empty street. The voice on the phone only told him a time and place, but it used his real name. He hadn’t heard that name for years, so foreign to him now that he didn’t recognize it at first, but hearing it aloud undid the last two decades of his life. He thought some sense of justice or absolution would comfort him, but it didn’t. His family would not understand.