STOP wtf you are doing.

Put down the gun and step back. On your knees. On your belly. Kiss the dirt. You fucked up this time. We got you surrounded. No wiggling outta this, I’m serious. You’re going down for a long ass-

And right as I kneel beside you, you bolt. Up off the road into the field like a gazelle. Clear the barbwire as I open fire. Twang go the bullets. Pang. Spang. And you expect any moment to feel hot biting lead.

But my aim sucks. It’s hard to hit a moving target and my gat revolves around and goes click. Goddamnit, I spit, hoist my pants and set off huffing and puffing. I manage to clamber awkwardly over the barbed wire without castrating myself, then I look up. No movement. You’re nowhere to be seen.

I crouch, fumblingly reload, and set off slowly into the sea of late summer hay. The sun’s low in the sky and the shadows are long and strong. Bugs zip through the perfumed air trailing powdery columns of pollen.

I’m tryna regain my breath but the adrenaline’s making me huff air in short bursts. I hold my breath, tryna pick out your sound. Your tracks disappear. The fuck? I whirl and you stick me in the stomach with a bone-handled knife.

Ughhh, I say and drop my gun and paw at the viper bite in my belly. You smile and twist the blade. Volcanic eruptions spew hot lava over my crotch, coursing down and over my legs. Retract. Stab again, this time at an angle. Saw left to right.

With a satisfying flub, my intestines fall into a pile by my feet and all the blood rushes outta my head. I feel dizzy. Red warning triangles flash in my vision and I kneel before you, praying to the little altar of entrails.

I’m barely aware as you pop a squat, kiss my cheek, and whisper, ‘I’m sorry.’