Endgame: Zwischenzug

by solaris2001

As the dry, metallic click rang through the dark and smoky room, his eyes opened, relaxing his finger squeezed around the trigger of the greasy revolver and lowering it from the corner of his eye down his rough, unshaven face. With that fifth hollow toll, every second he had left to live became as two mirrors of possibility set opposite one another in the sunlight, a vibrant, seductive thing that escaped any words yet spoken or dreamed. He reached out with a steady hand across the stained felt table to release the greasy revolver and become a denizen of time.

Advertisements