The sergeant crossed the parade ground. All I could think of was her, smiling at him as she took his hand. She used to smile like that for me, once, long ago. Now that sweetness is reserved only for him. That bastard. Rage, spurred on by the dull spike of drink, swirled in my veins. I looked to the musket on my shoulder, then to the sergeant. As he approached, I calmly lowered the gun to my side and fired a crisp, sharp shot. A crimson flower bloomed at the sergant’s waist. Many hands were laid upon me as he toppled to the ground. I let out a strange little laugh as they dragged me away.
February 26, 2010
“Gentlemen I am guilty of the crime for which I am about to suffer and I am sorry for it. I beg also to state that unless it had been for a drink I should not be here today”