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April 10, 2009

Stacy: It's a Name Not a Description, Dammit

I ran through the alley, six-shooter in one hand, rifle in the other. Jed wasn’t getting away from me this time.

Movement ahead… I dropped to one knee and brought the rifle up. Breathe, sight, squeeze. The bullet took him high in the chest and he dropped like a sack of rocks.

I walked slowly towards him. The streets were deserted, windows shuttered. Citizens knew better than to come between a SP and her quarry.

Jed glared up at me sullenly.

“For a little lady named Patience you sure ain’t got any,” he gasped.

I shot him between the eyes.

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