Death is Unpleasant, My Friend

1495 WordsFeb 25, 20186 Pages
The Litigator got what he wanted. A copper-tinted key that appealed small in his palms, yet was as heavy as a stone. While looking at an unmarked gravestone, another man bled eternally in the six foot hole. Despite the man’s dedication to not move his palm from the wound, most of the blood had flown out of his body and into the soil. Taking a look at the man in the grave, the Litigator caressed the left side of his stubble with the tip of his index finger. Drips of precipitation occasionally interrupted his finger from stroking the hairs. It rained for six days; no sunshine was seen. Moonlight was all that provided a visionary source in Portland. “Once you enter, you will see why they are sixes and sevens.” The man in the grave commented. The Litigator let out a sudden guffaw and responded calmly with, “Your comments won’t matter once you’re down there forever. Alone. Six feet under. Where nobody can here peep a word.” he paused momentarily. “Death is unpleasant my friend” The man became fearful after hearing this sad, yet true comment that his chest reacted with a small reflex, causing goose bumps to form everywhere on his body. The Litigator reached for his black pistol in the back pocket of his jeans. He aimed the barrel at the man’s forehead. Giving a slight force on the trigger, a bullet gusted out of the gun and penetrated into the man’s forehead. Blood quickly pooled from his head. The Litigator was not interested in staying at the cemetery for too long, so he took
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