Matthew

Tyrone rested against the cold steel model of his car, the evening sun casting long shadows over the about forsaken stopping part. The weight of what he was almost to do sat overwhelming on his shoulders, squeezing down just like the thick warm mist that made the air nearly unbreathable. His dim eyes, which were always sharp and calculating, were presently filled with a blend of uneasiness and resolve.

Inside, Matthew was holding up. For a long time, Tyrone and Matthew had been at each other’s throats, their contention carving a ridiculous way through their separate way of lives. What had begun as a little disagreement had spiralled into a quarrel that had lasted for months, both men more disconnected and solidified than ever before.

But nowadays, Tyrone was about to do something that neither of them had ever considered. With a profound breath, he pushed off the car and walked toward Matthew's house. His strides resounded off the concrete, each one a reminder of how distant they had
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