I’m squinting into the sun, strumming my guitar, hoping someone will stop and listen.
A blond girl limps past, expression grim, and drops a dollar into my guitar case. There’s an ugly purple bruise on her cheek, crusted blood in her nostrils.
She hesitates at the biker’s bar, throws her shoulders back, and steps inside.
Too bad. Such a lovely girl. Didn’t think she was the type.
As I’m strumming soft chords, practicing a riff, four shots ring out.
She saunters out of the bar, smiling, humming to herself.
After crossing the street, she tosses a smoking revolver into a mailbox.
Good story, unexpected ending.
Deserved action by definition. Short, fast and smooth telling. I definitely will want to read more from this author…a great writer indeed. One of the best I would say, and I’ve read lots.
Great title
As a guitar picker, I enjoyed your story, and I picture that blond with long legs in a short skirt. Keep on pickin’
Love the picture of her throwing the smoking gun into the mailbox.