Friday, August 5, 2011
The third time, it was callousness that saved me. We were both walking toward the co-op, and I stepped on a piece of glass, which broke underfoot. He turned, but I was already drawn, and, there's no "riding the trigger" for me, quirk of my weak hands, I pull or I don't; so with a boom, down he went under our pale moon.
Posted by eight.blocks at 9:52 AM