by Robert Gryfft
He spins, clicks, smiles, all balls and bravado.
Luckily, neither have anything to do with this game.
I put the revolver to my head carefully.
Click.
I grin.
Click.
He’s gone once so far. I smile ghastly.
Click.
He starts to sweat. I’ve gone thrice. And now:
Click.
I hand him the revolver.
2 comments:
This is possibly the strongest 55-word story I have read all year. Killer job, Gryfft.
This is superb, so much power in so little action.
Post a Comment