a gunA Story by alan khanthere are four men seated around the table. it's a glass table.
some would call it a coffe table but. no one ever think to put coffe on this table.
the owner of the table is dead now...because of this table but thats a story for another time.
on this glass table. A fresh scratch runs across it. put there from a gun being slid into the center of it.
the four men all have a reason to take this gun to take this gun and c**k back the hammer
and to unload onto the other three.
but that also. is a story for another time.
so than what are we doing here? why are we in this room.
a hanging innocent bystander. (is that how you spell that?)
why are omnipitent. aware that each man's heart is racing. each man is sweating in there own way.
why do we know all of this, and why are waiting to see what happens?
why are we aware of the details of the stinky room stinky dark room.
what are we so gripped by this for?
what about irrelevance to us is so interesting? © 2010 alan khanFeatured Review
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