tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7035237221401815009.post7071984165185811772..comments2024-03-28T08:59:01.398-04:00Comments on Write With Pictures: Tuesdays Tale: Featured Post Winnerseptembermomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570525910483384484noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7035237221401815009.post-73927150385351265042009-12-29T09:15:47.151-05:002009-12-29T09:15:47.151-05:00Cool! I love it!Cool! I love it!Chef Ehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11198603107302675448noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7035237221401815009.post-64435725995717609912009-12-23T10:54:30.518-05:002009-12-23T10:54:30.518-05:00The snow slid smoothly away under his skis. The rh...The snow slid smoothly away under his skis. The rhythm was mind-numbing, and he tried to concentrate on it, forget what Janelle had done to him. Left, right, left, right, left. It was no good, how dare she leave him for that creep? How was he going to live without her? <br /><br />He paused in his rhythm at the edge of a slope and fingered the pistol in his right pocket. Maybe he should just end it all now. No, that wasn't right. Maybe he should take Janelle and the creep with him. No, then their kids would grow up alone.<br /><br />What was he going to do? He pulled the pistol from his pocket and stared at it. He had bought it years ago. Never used it much. Didn't feel like it now. He cracked it open and emptied the chambers. He pocketed the bullets and closed the gun. Then he pulled back his arm and threw it down the slope into the reeds as hard as he could. He turned back down the trail towards town. He still didn't know what he was going to do, but he did know he didn't feel like dying.morgannahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04295309367485408358noreply@blogger.com