2

"hard driving, and hard times" sgt burke said to himself. he pushed his foot into the accelerator and sped up to the speed limit, then lifting it with a sigh his shoulders fell. the city lights passed, he drove in silence, all the while his face became more and more saggy, limp, and lackluster. he pulled into his driveway and turned the key. he sighed again, a deeper more depressing sigh this time. he opened the door, walked up the path and opened his front door. he put his hat on a shelf, and hung his jacket on a hook. ahead of him, down the hall, with the door open his wife was sitting at the kitchen table with a stack of papers around her, she did not look up. sgt burke sat on the couch and put his feet up on the table. there was an envelope sitting next to him on the couch, he looked at it. then he closed his eyes. "hard driving and hard times." he said to himself again, and a faint smile grew briefly, then faded away. he reached over and picked up the envelope. it had the distinct feel of containing photographs. he opened his eyes and looked at the envelope. it was brown, and had a white sticker on the front with the letters
fff
typed neatly across it. it was not sealed, he opened it and found a picture of a white town house, there was a bike inside the front door.

he heard his wife walking down the hall and up the stairs, he looked at her as she passed the door to the front room. he looked at the next picture, it was the same.
they were all the same, all the same, but one. this one was different, and when sgt. burke looked at it he froze, the envelope and pictures of the house slid off his lap. those stones, those stones, those boots.