Die Writing

Good and Evil

Posted in Guns of St. Michael by erdaron on October 11, 2010

“What’s evil, then?” Asked the young man. He was leaning against the wall, wincing at the ringing in his ears. There was an acrid smell of gunpowder in the air, a thin cloud of smoke.

“Destruction,” answered St. Michael, standing in the middle of the cellar and methodically loading his gun. A few motionless bodies lay on the floor.

“And good?”

“Letting shit be.” The revolver’s drum was full, and the gun went back into its holster.

“Those don’t seem like opposites…” the young man said after a pause.

“Imagine that. The world ain’t made of straight lines.”

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