On the edge

My ears were still ringing as burning gunpowder filled my nostrils at the speed of smell, and as the wisps of smoke from the gun barrel spiralled and floated away.

Funny thing about guns; you pull the trigger, the bullet breaks the sound barrier as it flies out of the barrel and at that moment you put your faith in smoke, peering through the mist to see if you hit your target.

You don’t even notice if you’ve been shot until a few moments later, it happens so fast.

Standing up straight was a mistake.

I felt it in my gut, sharp pain just before my stomach muscles clenched and I hunched over a second later, staring at the red stain blooming through the fabric of my shirt as my legs crumpled beneath me. The pain cleared the fog in my mind and brought everything into sharp focus. I was suddenly aware that all of the mooks in the room were still there and still pointing their guns at me.

“We could’ve been good together if you’d have just been a little more ruthless. That’s the trouble with you Frank; you’re too soft, too nice. You’ve got no edge, you know?” Eva purred as she rose from her chair and strolled towards me, compact revolver in hand. “Right now, I bet that if you were in my shoes you’d feel a pinch of guilt. I don’t. That’s the difference between you and me. You’d only shoot people if there was no other choice, where as I simply see it as the most efficient way of getting what I want.”


“Yes Frank, I’m a bitch. I’m a fucking bitch because that’s what it takes Frank, that’s what I’ve got to be to get anywhere in this life. What do you think, I’m meant to find a nice guy and settle down Frank? Find a nice guy like you? Look at yourself Frank; you’re a fucking loser. You barely make rent and you’ve got no ambitions beyond the next drink.” She crouched down and looked into my eyes, pouted. “That bullet wound looks nasty; you should go to the hospital and get that seen to.” She winked, stood up and smoothed out her dress. “We’re going to go now Frank, but listen; if you come after us again, I’ll fucking kill you.”

I didn’t have time to reply, because somebody kicked me in the back of the head and the lights went out.


About TheImaginator

35 year old sciolist living in Tokyo. I like swing dancing, Twitter word games, writing, using Stumbleupon.com, reading, and watching movies. I write stuff on my blog occasionally.
This entry was posted in Creative writing, Devine and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to On the edge

  1. Wow, that is one tough broad. Great build, here; vivid descriptions and powerful dialogue. It’s good to have you back!

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