Run up that concrete flight. Assess the scene and know that’s it’s not alright.
And push the hair aside - like moving ivy out of the windows of those glassy eyes.

Check for that heartbeat sign. The steady rhythm that helps determine if you’ve still got time. But it’s the pulse that you just can’t find. Nothing but the the bloodrush beat behind an aching mind.

So cover what you can with a jacket to keep from prying eyes. Let out a tremble and a silent sigh. Pick him up and take him out of sight and know that things won’t ever be alright.