A Christmas Gift for You
Christmas is a time of giving. So, in the spirit of Christmas, I’ve posted on my website a free downloadable short story I wrote while recovering from cancer surgery (my newsletter subscribers will get it as an attachment to my newsletter later today).
I find writing a freeing and unique way to explore emotions and attitudes and feelings and fears. In The Final Chapter you’ll delve into the mind of a man who just found out his days are numbered. What you’ll find will be frightening and liberating.
The story is on my “books” page. Scroll down to the bottom and download it.
Here’s a short excerpt:
I honestly can’t explain what I felt then or what happened. It was a strange mixture of panic, anger, and fear, and I just snapped. I needed gas. I needed to get further away from civilization. I needed to get deeper into the night. Without taking time to think through my next steps, I grabbed the gun off the passenger seat, shoved it in the right leg pocket of my cargo pants, and headed back to the store.
When I entered he stood up straight and said, “Thirty-one, sixty-two.”
I started to sweat, and my pulse thumped in my ears like a jackhammer. I tried to swallow but it wasn’t happening.
The kid shrugged. “Dude, you got it or not?”
What I remember next is a little shady. I know I fumbled in my pocket for the pistol. I remember the four-inch barrel looking like it went on forever as I tried to steady my hand and point it at the kid. I remember the cigarette dropping from his mouth. And I remember his eyes, wide and white as new golf balls, starring at the muzzle like it was some kind of alien and was going to start talking.
I told him to get out from behind the counter. My voice squeaked and croaked like a twelve-year-old going through puberty. He started to beg for his life but I told him to shut up and apologized for scaring him. If he pumped thirty in gas I’d be on my way and he would live to tell his friends about the lunatic that held him up.