The hill used to be nameless. It’s name came one scorching day smack in the middle of summer.
Eddy and I were running barefoot through the forest that grew on the gentle hill, playing games we made up on the spot. We ran down to our favorite hiding spot, a rusty old Chevrolet. We kept our stash of comic books in the trunk, and at the end of the day, me and Eddy would head down there and read and drink Cherry Cokes. That fateful July day however, was not a usual day.
As we approached the Chevy, we could smell something unusually foul. We were kids though, and curiosity pulled us towards the car like it had it’s own gravitational field.
Then we saw him.
Sitting in the driver seat in a pool of shining crimson blood was a man, with a single bullet hole in the middle of his forehead.
We’ve called it Dead Man’s Hill ever since.
“The Hill” is my submission the 51st FFfAW Challenge (Check it out here). It is composed of 160 words.
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