Saturday's Storyteller: "I'll fucking kill you!"
by Belinda Roddie
"I'll fucking kill you!"
He's smashing his fist into tables, sending splinters into the air. He's searching for the girl with bushy eyebrows and short hair. He's looking for the "she-man."
"I'll kill you!"
She stands there quietly, calmly. One hand clasping the porcelain wrist. The girlfriend shakes but holds on tight. Her fingers stroke the leather jacket.
"I'll - "
He stops with a hole in his chest. He drops. Dust clears. All calm.
An old cowboy lowers a hidden handgun. Skeletal shells hollow on the floor. He lets the smoke rile the tips of his wispy beard.
There is quiet in the bar. Quiet down the street. Quiet for the girl holding her love against her shoulder. The girl who wants to be a man holds her back.
The cowboy tips his hat and calls her, "Sir." A very polite smile. He lets them walk out quietly, somberly. Their footprints do not track the blood.
The sirens begin to scream.
This week's prompt was provided by John Hayes.
"I'll fucking kill you!"
He's smashing his fist into tables, sending splinters into the air. He's searching for the girl with bushy eyebrows and short hair. He's looking for the "she-man."
"I'll kill you!"
She stands there quietly, calmly. One hand clasping the porcelain wrist. The girlfriend shakes but holds on tight. Her fingers stroke the leather jacket.
"I'll - "
He stops with a hole in his chest. He drops. Dust clears. All calm.
An old cowboy lowers a hidden handgun. Skeletal shells hollow on the floor. He lets the smoke rile the tips of his wispy beard.
There is quiet in the bar. Quiet down the street. Quiet for the girl holding her love against her shoulder. The girl who wants to be a man holds her back.
The cowboy tips his hat and calls her, "Sir." A very polite smile. He lets them walk out quietly, somberly. Their footprints do not track the blood.
The sirens begin to scream.
This week's prompt was provided by John Hayes.
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