It was true: his whole life flashed before his eyes: every stupid mistake, every terrible thing he had ever done, right up to the moment when, slightly drunk and walking only a little ahead of Joe Zeppoli through the dark, nearly empty parking lot behind the Ooh La La, each supposedly back to his own separate car, he felt something brush against his head, just above and behind his left ear, and turned to see a gun pointed in his face…

From Issues No.11 to 13, published May to August 2017

Buy it in print here

 

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Copyright © 2017 by Robert York

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