Ficlets

ON The Run.

My beard itched. How long had I been here? I could not tell you. I’d run for hours before finally settling down in the middle of the desert; and let me tell you, it gets cold at night in Nevada.
The sounds of tumbleweeds whisking by was a haunting sound amid the dark silence that surrounded me. There were no other signs of life that i could tell, save the odd scurry from a fearful desert rat.
“I should not have left her,” i murmured to myself. Somehow, saying it aloud made it more true. You never leave your partner behind; no matter what.
The stars overhead glimmered like a shimmering black scarf draped over my eyes. My life had become such a blur.
The drugs. The alcohol.
The murder & mayhem.
I checked my gun. Full mag, one in the chamber.
“if they come,” i nodded to myself (somehow it wasn’t at all reassuring), “i’ll be ready,”
“He’s here somewhere!” said one voice, male, deep.
“Somewhere. Pete, I hate to tell you, but it’s a damn big desert!” said the other; female, familiar,
“Charlie!” She called.

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