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May 16, 2005

Stacy: Justice

The small, grizzled man huddled in a corner of the alley I'd chased him into. His thin chest heaved as he gasped for breath, his wispy hair flew around his face.

"Please," he begged between gasps.

I just looked at him, remembering what he did to that little girl. Wonder if he remembers her begging, her pain, tears, fear. Wonder if he regrets anything.

"What did I ever do to you?!" he screams, half rising against the crumbling wall.

"Nothing," I say, squeezing the trigger on the Glock until the slide hangs open on an empty clip.

"Nothing at all."

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I don't know if it's art, but I know what I like, and I like this. Masterful snapshot, Stacy.

Posted by: Keiran Halcyon at May 17, 2005 11:07 AM · Permalink

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