Holding the gun in my left hand, I stuck the barrel between my teeth and half-gagging on it, I placed the steel muzzle against the roof of my mouth. Without hesitation I slid my right thumb into the guard and pushed the trigger.The hammer snapped but the shell didn't fire. I held my breath, unmoving for moments, tasting metal and oil and a sudden nausea. My heart started pounding against my ribs. Its loudness beat in my head as if knuckles were knocking on bone. I hadn't wanted any thought - any pause; no second thinking in the process of blowing my brains to the far side of the sun.
Fetish Blonde, John Gilmore, 1998
I guess I know what I'm reading next.
Posted by: William Young | 03/30/2005 at 10:31 AM
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Posted by: William Young | 03/31/2005 at 06:47 AM