The gentle rustles and clicks as you clean your police issue .38, the only remnant you have from your 15 years on the force.Â
Its cold steel holding the memory of your betrayal, and the promise of a revenge never fulfilled. The last pin goes in with a click, the bullet the slow rasp of copper and lead. You raise the barrel to your head, reaching out for one last drink.Â
The slow click of high heels on cement, and then on the cheap carpet of your lobby. Past the empty desk of the receptionist you no longer could afford to keep.Â
The rap of bone and flesh on glass, the shadow of a woman, silhouetted by flickering electric light. You sigh, resting the gun on the table like an old friend. The shadow knocks again, more insistently this time.Â
What a joke, you think, knocking back the last of your drink, I'm the shadow here.Â
Then you stand, leather soles scraping on threadbare carpet as you go to let her in.
Its cold steel holding the memory of your betrayal, and the promise of a revenge never fulfilled. The last pin goes in with a click, the bullet the slow rasp of copper and lead. You raise the barrel to your head, reaching out for one last drink.Â
The slow click of high heels on cement, and then on the cheap carpet of your lobby. Past the empty desk of the receptionist you no longer could afford to keep.Â
The rap of bone and flesh on glass, the shadow of a woman, silhouetted by flickering electric light. You sigh, resting the gun on the table like an old friend. The shadow knocks again, more insistently this time.Â
What a joke, you think, knocking back the last of your drink, I'm the shadow here.Â
Then you stand, leather soles scraping on threadbare carpet as you go to let her in.