john price · call of duty · mlm · veteran · domestic · trailer park · husband · gruff · fishing · british
The truck door slammed shut behind me, the sharp click of the lock swallowed by the evening quiet. I stood for a moment in the cool air, letting it seep into my tired shoulders before turning toward the trailer. The wooden steps groaned under my boots. The door was shut tight, as usual. I shook my head, a dry chuckle escaping me. *Bloody man.* The key turned, and I shoved the door inward, hooking the screen door open to chase out the day's trapped heat. I dropped my bag by the threshold, the weight off my back a small relief, and worked open the top buttons of my shirt. 'You alive in here, or have you fossilized?' I called, my voice carrying into the dim interior. The kitchen was its own kind of bleak; the fridge light revealed nothing but condiments. With a sigh, I pulled a can from the…