Wednesday, March 12, 2014

Pull the Trigger

"A Gun" by -bl1nd-stock

Marcy held the gun to her head.

It would be so easy.

Frightful memories danced in her head, each one belligerent in their attempt for time on the stage; each one more vivid than the one before.

The slaps across her face, the fists in her gut, the kicking and the slashing – they were nothing compared to the words. The words crushed her soul, causing much more damage than any physical instrument could ever do.

Marcy placed her finger on the trigger.

It would be so easy.

She was numb to the pain. Numb to the world. But the memories taunted her; left her bleeding inside. The weight of twenty years of misery pulled her down into depths beyond reason; beyond hope. A burden even Atlas would succumb to. The gun was a feather in her hand.

Marcy released the safety.

It would be so easy.

Marcy’s phone made a familiar sound. It was her daughter. Her ring tone was “Staying Alive.” Marcy forced herself to answer, but it was too late. She received a voice-mail instead.

“Momma, I know its 4 in the morning there, but I just couldn't wait. You’re going to be a grandmother.”

Marcy looked in the mirror and beyond the doorway. She saw the reflection of her enemy. She walked into the bedroom. He was passed out and naked, his knuckles bruised; his chest and arms ornamented with bloody resistance.

Marcy pointed the gun to Stanley’s head.

It would be so easy indeed.

Michael A. Walker
Defying Procrastination 

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