I saw the acid stained tears running down your cheek. The sick whimper that escaped your lips and rang in my skull and empty heart forever. That rank, disheveled, "just been fucked" smell all over your body and a smoking revolver in my hand. It wasn't because I loved you; I didn't do it for that: I did it for business. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time. I don't even fucking know you. Goddamn it. Why'd you have to be here?
"BANG! BANG BANG!"
Your body fell to the floor and swooned for a moment because you saw something beautiful for the first time in your life. You saw the real you, reflected in the blood streaming from your lifeless body and onto the floor as your spirit left and floated up to a better place.
Fuck. You were a beautiful girl. It's a shame to waste life on a fuck-off like him.
The sun was just rising in the sky too. There was a sent of roses and cut grass carried on the mist brought in by the evanescing morning dew.
It made me nostalgic for a better time when I didn't get involved in this life of self-deprecating redundancy. When you're in this business you either die or get sent to jail. The second might have been better but when a wheel spins with only two choices on it, I don't enjoy my odds.
I put my pistol away and lit a cigarette. In a scratch on a record of an old love song, I saw moments of sitting on a floor with a lilliputian model T in my hands and then nothing but the thick smell of burnt black powder and freshly laid bodies of Russian mafiosos.
A gun on the table...
Two shots into the lifeless day...
Nothing.
It was high time I disappeared.
I pushed over the can of gas I had brought with me from the car and tossed my cigarette into it. The place lit up like a dry day on a ranch in hell. I couldn't see how this day could get any better. Sometimes I think it never will.
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