wittyjane96 avatar


The old man pulled the small gun from his pocket and studied it in his hands. He felt its weight, balancing it in the palm of his open hand. So much power, he thought, for such a small object. He sat on the bed and looked at the picture of his smiling wife on the oak dresser. “Soon, honey.” He whispered to her. The picture of their twenty year old son sat next to it. “Soon.” He raised the gun slowly to his open mouth until he tasted its metal tang. His finger, steady on the trigger, pressed down. Now.

2 comments add one below

  • avatar

    Rodindeadpan almost 10 years ago

    Very good and very disturbing. Welcome to drabbleland Jane.

  • avatar

    Horrorshow almost 10 years ago

    Looking forward to following your writing, Jane. A warm welcome to drablr.com.

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