Gun

“Hey baby,” she said, “put your gun away. I’m so sick and tired of “sick and tired”. I’m so frustrated with your questions. When you say “family” I guess you mean us. But, if family, then there’d be no war between us. And what peace, if you keep aiming that thing at me?”

“Hey baby, put your gun away.”

She feels cheated. Her breath and his, the only sound.

“Hey baby, go put that gun away, in a box, underground… Like money under the mattress: there if you need it, but too hard to get.

Just like him.

Published: Impressions Magazine