quasi_sean

it was dark, i remember, and i was humming Lionel Ritchie tunes to myself as i carried the garbage bags across the parking lot. there were five of them, heavy fuckers full of empty pizza boxes, beer bottles, a broken bong, and cat shit. it had just rained, and the clouds made this Sunday evening even darker.

i didn't see the gun until it was inches from my eyes.

the man holding it was young, maybe my age, maybe even younger. he looked scared, but told me he would shoot me if i didn't give him my money.

"i don't have any," i told him. it was the truth. i was broke, and it couldn't have come at a worse time.

"you're lying."

i told him i would empty my pockets if he didn't believe me, and he nodded. i pulled them all out, and told him unless he wanted a few pieces of lint and a button, then he was shit out of luck.

and then he lowered the gun to my stomach. and shot me.