Bam. the glock fired its last shot. Click click, many more clicks came but none with the satisfying burst of fire that was desired. This was not a life threatening situation by any means, but it certainly was the end for one life. This gun was a friend, not in any weird way but in a way that a big brother protects a little brother, in a way that a dad protects his child, a reminder for the old man that he could hold his own against almost any trial. It had been years since this gun had seen action, and it truly never fired an aggressive shot, or any shot for that matter outside of the range,
Something that this old man understood gave him tears when he realized while this gun could not be repaired,. This silver pistol had saved his life and only he knew how valuable it truly was. He placed the glock back in its case, and in solemn demeanor walked home. Fear struck him. This neighborhood seemed darker, the faces stared and eyes seemed to dart in his direction like they never had before. Home, he thought. It was a long walk home, but it reminded him of a different life, a life that he was scared of.
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