Tuesday

Parker leaned far to the right, aiming the pistol out at arm’s length in front of him,


the line of the barrel sighted on Shevelly’s head. Shevelly read his intention and suddenly thrust his hands out protectively in front of himself, shouting, “I’m only the messenger!”

“Now you’re the message,” Parker told him, and shot him.

Richard Stark, Butcher’s Moon

No comments:

Post a Comment