hazard 27 (defunct) › floor › view

click click click (03/11/2003)

        And he pulled the pen out of his leg, a mixture of ink and blood streamed down to his foot. He took a swig of beer, swung the bottle around as he swallowed, and poured what was left in the bottle on his wound, walked around limping, and whispered words. He covered his eyes with his left hand, dropping the pen at the same time. While the pen bounced on the floor, he revealed his pale face, collected and calm, no deep breaths needed. He looked at his surroundings, then down at the floor for a minute, and fixed his eyes on the pistol between my hands. He nodded his head, indicating that I should finish the job, while a painful moan came from the floor. I aimed, sighed, and shot the disfigured face on the floor. My ears rang, and I reluctantly shot him as well, and he turned into a brief vibration that came from the floor.

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