“It’s not you, it’s me.”
The tension in the car increased sharply, making her feel as though an imaginary vacuum was sucking all the air out of the already tight space.
“I see,” he replied, his face a mask of impenetrable calm.
He opened the glove compartment and her eyes fell upon the .38 Smith and Wesson lying next to a black ring box from a local jeweler. He reached inside.
She couldn’t say she hadn’t seen it coming.
Inspired by: Six Sentences
[This is a repost from my Tumblr blog.]
Devi Michaelis ☕ 