Fire

I get up, lean out of my bedroom window with elbows firm on the sill and fire the gun. I hear the magical, instantaneous ping and rattle of the pellet hitting the can as it falls of the fence; I return to bed and drink my tea satisfied.

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Rating: 6.4/10 (5 votes cast)

Locked

I keep two birds locked in a golden cage, atop the kitchen counter in a dusty, musty house. The paint is peeling, the floorboards are gone, blood streaks the walls, and the two birds stare at me from the confines of their golden cage.

VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rating: 6.3/10 (7 votes cast)