I sat in the armchair in my apartment, watching the swirling snow blow outside through the large bay window, with a 0.38 Smith and Wesson lying next to me. Reckless thoughts flashed through my mind, like a springtime thunderstorm. The icy, cold gun was sandwiched between my left leg and the chair, and I shivered a little from its coldness. I had never owned nor shot a gun before, but I planned to kill Damir and Adnan and Jasmin, maybe not in that order, but I knew the world would be a better place without those three living in it.
|Searching for Stolen Love by Kenneth Szulczyk|