At Least They're Committed

Geez, that was horrible writing. I mean, I know tons about shooting guns and how it feels and how far back a 44 Magnum kicks you after you pull the trigger (no, morons, it is no longer the most powerful handgun in the world) as opposed to a typical shotgun. My real bro, Dan, runs… Read more

The Ruger 357 Magnum is no longer heavy in Leah’s hand. She’s been carrying it awhile. Crouching behind a wall of pressed wood and fabric, she turns to Lin and motions for quiet by the light of the moon. Lin scoots closer, into position, cradling her Walther P99 with her left hand while reaching into her breast pocket for an… Read more

“Come walk with me,” he beckons. But I can’t. I shake my head, no. “Why not?” he’s slightly impatient. The sun is shining, I’ve been working for five consecutive hours, it would be good to get out in the December chill to awaken some perspective in me. “I’m afraid.” He already knows this. He also… Read more

Oddly enough I’ve found that the moments I feel weak, moderately insecure and even the slightest bit of dread often — upon being analyzed — seem to be in direct line with times I’ve been . . . bored. Alas! How ever shall I set about remedying this frightful condition? (That was rhetorical. Don’t feel compelled to… Read more

“Well, that was pretty harsh.” “Oh,” she looks up. “Hey! Haven’t seen you for a while.” He smiles, standing directly in front, hands in his coat pockets. “You haven’t needed to.” “So what’s up?” “Like I said, that was harsh.” “Oh, that? Sorry. Didn’t mean it to be. If there were any part of me… Read more

All right, Gabriel, here are the revisions. Yes, grandkids, I was being unkind because I’m extremely anti-smoking. But, yes, I need to keep in mind everyone is special and lovely in his or her own say. Read more