God and his subject

“I am sorry Tom, but you knew it had to end like this”

The barrel pressed to my forehead has been there so long it’s not even cold anymore. I’m out of points, no argument left, was I really wrong? My throat doesn’t feel dry, and I can’t even bring myself to beg for mercy. The barrel isn’t even cold, I didn’t think it would be like this. My leg is going numb and my suit is shrinking in the rain.

I can’t even summon up my life to flash before my eyes, I can’t think, my brothers face is fixed in my mind. He’s yelling at me but I can’t remember his voice and so it comes out all wrong.

I think my mouth manages to mumble a protest. My leg is going numb. Why couldn’t he have tied me up better? Eddie. In this moment no one and nothing is more important but all I can think of is how I can’t feel my leg. In this moment he is God, and my mind is drifting like a child trying to pray.

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