Mystery writer

 
 

On the Edge

a short story


By Gregg E. Brickman

I sit in my living room, listening to my dog barking in the yard, wondering what will become of him.  Will he meet an end similar to mine?  I hope it will be better, gentler.  The placement of my beloved dog won’t be my decision to make.  At least that much I’ve decided.  I know it sounds cruel, but one product of powerlessness, I believe, is indecision—the other is rage.

I turn the 351PD Smith & Wesson over in my hand, inspecting the engraving, running my fingers over the AirLite logo.  I’ve never fired the weapon, though I took my time selecting it.

Thinking back, even that day at the gun show I was indecisive.  I’m sure the salesman wondered what I wanted with such a gun.  When I entered the Super Marksman booth at the Convention Center, I said, “I’ve come to buy something inexpensive, efficient, effective.”  Words often used to describe me.

“To protect myself,” I said.  “You know how the world is.”  The exquisite lines of the small gun caught my eye and I pointed to it.

The salesman sold me on the power of the 351PD.  I thought it fitting.  Expensive, yes.  I’m worth it, I thought.

For now, the revolver isn’t loaded, though an unopened box of .22 Magnum cartridges sits on the glass-topped end table next to a crystal candy dish.  I pick up the soft cloth from the cleaning kit the salesman included as a bonus, take my time removing the smudges from the smooth black finish, then lay the gun next to the ammunition.

The first day I started my new job, I was filled with hope, drunk on the possibilities.  Though the position wasn’t what I wanted or deserved, I was sure things would work out.

Read the rest of On the Edge, a short story by Gregg E. Brickman

 
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