Mr. Sick - Chapter 8

“To the man who has no aim.” It read along the side.

Engraved into the silver handle. So I can feel it even when I'm not looking. So I could feel it at all times.

I ran my shaky fingers slowly through each word as I said them to myself.

“What an awful thing say...” I thought. How very fucked a gift she got for me.

I get off on it though.

I don't know why, but theres something in it I like.

You would think someone calling you terrible would make one angry. But it doesn't.

I adjust my top hat.

I spit on the road.

I twirl the gun.

Not because I think I'm tricky, but because it feels necessary.

I'd probably shoot myself bi-accident if god had his way. But surprisingly I've lived this long, so he's either on my side or doesn't exist. Whatever the case..it works for me.

The gun feels cold and awkward in my hand.

Everything feels cold...

And everything feels awkward...

I'm waiting for the door across the street to open. I'm waiting for Mrs. Conception to come out and say hello, and then my friends my dear good friends we follow and we fire, and end one life and yet so many, because emotions are a cripple.

I was going to stab her tonight.

But I've never used this gift Mrs. Hopeful kindly got me.

So in her honor!

I'll pull this trigger and pull it well.

I adjust my coat.

I spit on the road

I twirl the gun.
I don't know what they are doing inside. I would venture they are falling in love.

Or hit the floor already.

I can't exactly remember what it felt like, I feel kind of embarrassed I felt it for a girl one time at all.

I'm doing him a favor.

Sir Tanly'Safe will think their love would of lasted forever. He'll live the rest of his life believing that it was real, Oh boy oh boy was it real, and he had it once upon a time. I find it kind of charming don't you think? Or maybe I find it kind of sad. I can't decide, I'm flip flopping back and forth.

I'm doing him a favor and certainly he'll be safe.

From whatever it is that I have become...

I'm doing us all a favor.

I adjust my thoughts.

I spit on the road.

I twirl the gun.

No shot goes of accidentally.

There is no god, because who would ever pick my side?

The door across the street opens up.

It is time...