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Poor Penmanship
Thoughts/Tips welcome
2016-07-04 03:51:02 Post No. 8238524
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Thoughts/Tips welcome
Poor Penmanship
2016-07-04 03:51:02
Post No. 8238524
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Click. BANG' The tin can tremored in place, as if to spite your marksmanship, and settled steadfast.
In retrospect, I like to imagine you were thinking about how unwarranted your words were. "Are we still friends?" My utterance was feeble in light of your hostile body language. You glanced at me and stared down the can once more. Maybe I was the tin can, for some reason.
You checked to see if there were more pellets loaded in to the chamber, and were not disappointed. "What the hell are you talking about?" You were somewhere in between feigned ignorance of the argument from earlier and fermenting its animosity. 'Click. BANG.'
"You yelled at me and stormed off after I agreed with Ryan and I just wanted to make sure we were still friends."
How pathetic did I sound? I identified so heavily with someone so hateful. Someone so raw and misunderstanding.
"The other day you asked me if I considered you my best friend, and I said yes." Looking back, maybe you just fed off my naïveté and latent mental illness. "I have to hold myself to that."
I can see you start to cry and I hoped you were fulfilled with a compassion far too mature and adult for either of us. 'Click. BANG' The can gyrates and falls with a dull thud, muffled by the autumn leaves. The neighbors complained about us shooting the other day, and my eyes wandered anxiously for their appearance. You seemed focused on your conflicting thoughts.
"Sometimes I have trouble dealing with my anger. Or other people. I misinterpret others and I lash out. You need to understand." I didn't understand.
"Okay."
Several pauses of silence with near interruptions passed but hesitance muted them. "Let's go inside."
'Click. BANG.' You checked the chambed and it was empty.
"Okay."
