by Brenda K
Bodie's eyes are the colour of denim, and he's looking at me, waiting for news.
The verdict's fallen, I tell him, and the news isn't good.
"Get a second opinion? Yeah." I say.
"And there's really..."
"Nothing they can do. They said that the damage was just too much to repair. Have to accept it."
I try to not to get too emotional about it, but it's not easy.
"Never mind?" I say. "Is that all you can say? After all this time?"
"Doyle," he says. "It was just a pair of bloody jeans."
-- THE END --