Cottage & Limbs

The ground swirled beneath my feet, my legs felt weak, like I was about to collapse. What happened next was something indescribable.

The Shotgun Waltz

So it’s all come down to this… Pacing the stained carpet in a cheap motel room, clutching my trusty shotgun in a death grip. I swore to myself that I would never let it end this way: overflowing ashtray on the bedside table, neon light bleeding through the thin curtains. Any minute now, any goddamn minute.