100 Words

Behind the empty Johnnie Walker bottle his S&W revolver whispered at him in her voice.  The voice that would haunt him forever.  Her stalker was harmless, he had said.  Crippled, immobile.  A keyboard commando.  Until the day he fired the shotgun through her door.

He tipped the bottle to his lips, chasing that elusive last drop.  The worn, crosscut grip invited him to pick up the weapon.  His Glock was gone, taken by OPR with his badge, ID, and before that his self-respect.

The metallic tang of the barrel on his tongue was sweet relief.  He thumbed back the hammer.

(Note – I stole this 100 word concept from Smitty at The Other McCain. The words are original.)


Author: Paul Krendler

The Thinking Man's Zombie

9 thoughts on “100 Words”

  1. Creepy. I'm not sure if the guy is a low level gamma, an omega, or a lambda. What does everyone else thing?

  2. He thought about his ex-wife. He wondered: "Will that witch laugh when she hears the news?"

    He realized the latest letter from her lawyer was on the table to his left. He got up and shifted his position so the blood spatter would get on the paperwork.

    When he put the barrel back in his mouth, he realized it was still warm, from before. "Like an old friend.", he thought.

  3. It's getting kinda dark; Imma just leave this right here.

    1. As a function of embeds, the former is so you can use this:

    1. Sure. Totally not a ripoff of Johnny Pissoff. Completely original. Yup.



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