Flash fiction 03

Bennington pressed the hexagon shaped barrel to the mans temple wrinkled temples. Their eyes met in between the cry of the blast sending a brief vibration up his arm and jerked him back. The man slumped to the side, slowly collapsing. The cloud were grey with a slight wash of white mist that slowly cascaded beyond the rolling barren fields. He returned to the car parked on the road side as the first droplets of rain began to fall.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s