Cross Plains, Texas – Volume 1.2

 Cross Plains, Texas

Rob sat in the passenger seat of his pickup truck looking down at the gun in his hand. The truck was parked on Main Street down from the Municipal Building. To a passerby it might look like he was asleep, or weeping. The knurling from the little Colts handle had left a diamond pattern on the skin of his left palm in which he had just been holding it. He watched the blood quickly flow back in to the tiny white squares and gripped the gun tighter in his right hand. He coughed and thought about raising the gun to his head. So quick and it will be over. Should have just done it at the motel, who cares what the inquest finds, they are still gone.

“Honey I will be right back and yes I have your list. Mazey – you want to head to the store with your old Pops?” She hadn’t – a new Samurai Jack was on and she was engrossed as usual. Rob left her sitting in front of the tv while some cartoon creature sprung from jungle branch to branch. “I will be back in a jiff,” he had announced to the house as he shut the front door.

And he was – but the house wasn’t.

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