November 2010
1 post
Start of a short story...
If her head had still been intact when I showed up, I’d say the broad is lying face-down. As it stands, anything resembling the face of the late Anne Connors burst like an overinflated tire the moment she wrapped her luscious lips around her husband’s service weapon and pulled the trigger. She’s sprawled out on her stomach with both of those blue-gray eyes staring up at the ceiling. Everything...