I’m so tired I can barely keep my eyes opened, yet forward I trudge.
Regret consumes me, as it’s done since I woke up. Why did I drink so much last night? Why did I end up playing Xbox with my roommates until 4am? Why hadn’t I gotten a decent night’s sleep? I knew I had to be up early!
And why’d I challenged that guy to pistols at dawn? Pistols at noon would have done just as well to salve my wounded honour.
I grip my pistol, try to ignore the hangover pounding in my ears, turn, and fire.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Pistols at Dawn
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