"A Gun to Your Head" by Tim Lieder (Fiction Extra)

She's got a twitch in her left leg. When she smiles it looks like a sneer.

This one is a lot like The Albino Dies. I suppose I once liked writing micro-fiction noir.

If you saw Heather at class reunions, you would wonder what happened. She still had that hard look that you see on strippers but she was bigger. She had acquired a daughter and a kitten. She was fighting with the landlord over the kitten. Fifteen years ago she let boys do things to her, shitty things that you shouldn't do to drunk girls.

She was a tough girl, she was the warning. She represented all the reasons why you were supposed to go to college, get a good job and avoid drugs and premarital sex. One day her kid will fire your kid in a massive layoff because her kid will have some fucking balls.

There are many things you can say about Heather. She's blond but she dyes. She's got a twitch in her left leg. When she smiles it looks like a sneer. Let’s just get the obvious out of the way. She’s holding a gun to your head.

She recognized you. You didn’t know her. Even when she repeated her name three times. She came back twice asking for the loan and you refused. It’s not your fault. Her credit is shit. She wanted you to act like a friend. You didn’t even know her in high school. You knew about her. You didn’t know her.

You feel the metal. It’s going to ruin your hair. Your chiropractor might have some things to say about the way you let her twist your head. If you wanted to be the big hero and grab the gun you could; with only a five percent chance that a bullet will destroy your head.

You feel your balls tighten. You aren’t sweating. You think. You should be sweating. Most sinners sweat under judgment. You wonder if death will hurt. She’s clutching your hand. You haven’t crapped yourself yet. Your intestines are twisting. You gulp; hope that she’s not going to shoot you for breathing. There are plenty of places that give loans to deadbeats. It's not your fault that you belong to a respectable bank. You wish you knew why she came to you.

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