The Gun Was Empty

Written for https://reinventionsreena.wordpress.com/2023/11/16/reenas-xploration-challenge-307/

He pulled the trigger, but nothing happened.

The gun was empty.

Just like his life.

Russian roulette. Only this time, he couldn’t insert the bullets. The metal handle caressed against the tip of his thumb as he searched the desk for truth. Blank and live bullets scattered around like poisonous sweets practically begged him to eat them whole.

Through the gloom of the lamp on the desk, he reached out and picked one at random. In that manner, the outcome would be firmly in the hands of fate. Indecision filled the air with the symphony of whispers and rustling leaves. Carrying the scent of anticipation and evoking a sense of uncertain yet exhilarating excitement, it was the most he felt all year.

Light as a penny in his palm, he rolled the bullet around between tentative fingers. The barrel popped open, and he gently massaged it inside. One last roll of the dice, it span into position. ‘Lady Luck, please give me the answer,’ he said, and snapped it shut.

Hands trembled as he placed the revolver back on the cluttered desk. Bullets were zipping across the floor in a bid for freedom. Would there be a way of joining them? He blinked and picked the gun back up. The means’ to his end was heavy in his hands as he lifted it to the side of his head.

He pulled the trigger, a flash of light, remnants of smoke lingered around his ears. The empty gun was light against his temple. A tear trickled down his cheeks, leaving a glistening trail, before gently landing on the silent desk.

The gun was empty.

His life was not.