a christmas carol
“Some people never go crazy. What truly horrible lives they must lead.” – charles bukowski
I squeezed the trigger and watched the fat cunt take two slugs squarely in the face. All because I did not want to get too close. His card was already marked. Terror. Not so much a stone as a sack of delinquent imps writhing about his throat. Wretched. Jockeying. Contagious as an curse. The first round, more fortuitously than by design, struck him between the eyes. The second hit him just above his right cheekbone, depositing on the wall behind him an inverted triangle of scalp the approximate shape of Barbados. It was the closest the cunt had come to a holiday since 1992. I felt all warm inside just like Santa Claus.