Acorn
“I’m leaving you.”
Dirk sighed and blasted Candy
through the bedroom window.
An under-reaction perhaps,
but there’d been Cherry all along
until
of-course
they’d tickled her tonsils
with the barrel of a Kalashnikov.
Now both the Jugsworth twins were dead
but they hadn’t got to him.
No sir.
Street-level screams
followed the thump, as usual,
and Dirk launched himself through
the remaining shards,
a
four
story
fall,
tuck and roll
onto the next sky scraper,
the chopper looming up ahead like a hangover.
As 12.7×108mm bullets
ploughed up the rooftop
Dirk thought about his careers’ adviser.
*Jonathan D. Rodgers is a writer of poetry and short fiction from the Northwest.
