>>3291448very well
CONTINUED FROM LAST TUESDAY
i handed my father the gun with the beginnings of tears clouding my vision. there were so many thoughts racing through my head, things we had done together, things i wish we had done together. i was comforted only by the fact that he would die as he had lived, walking to the corner store for milk and cigarettes.
he was starting to sweat, slumped up against the wall. with trembling hands, he lit up another cigarette with the still-lit butt of the one he had just been smoking.
"son, i'm going to go now. my ticker's gone weird on me, and i don't have long. tell my wife, your mother, that i love her very much."
"she knows!"
"you are turning into a wonderful man, it has been one of the greatest joys in my life to watch you mature and grow. we parked up one block to the right, i'm gonna go and see if i can't get the son of a bitch milk carton back for shooting me in the arm."
i didn't reply, but just wiped the corner of my eye with my shirtsleeve.
he stood up and got his footing, steadied himself on the brick wall. he flicked his cigarette butt into the gutter, and cocked the gun. he looked at me one last time, then charged into the street, firing wildly at the overturned car that was serving as a shelter for the milk carton.
i took off from the cul-de-sac sprinting in the opposite direction towards our car. i heard the firefight intensify, and my father scream.
i ran until my legs were burning with exertion and threw myself on the hood of the car, sliding over to the driver's side. fumbling with the keys, i unlocked the door and jumped inside. the car started with ease to my great relief, and i shifted into reverse and pulled out. shifting into first, then second, i careened out of the parking lot, tears now openly streaming from my face.
i was in the clear, but i had lost my father. we had gotten the cigarettes, but the milk had gotten him.
FIN
