A Cheap Shot

A bit of fiction

She looked up at the sky and tried to let the infinite blueness of it distract her…{Photo by Alexander K on Unsplash.}

It wasn’t so much the bullet in her stomach that bothered her, it was the betrayal it represented. She remembered teaching Sarah how to use the weapon — how to load it, how to hold it, how to aim and pull the trigger so that she was guaranteed to hit her target. So she knew that this bullet in her stomach was no mistake or accident. Sarah had shot her. Sarah had shot her intentionally. Never trust a Sarah, she thought. They look sweeter but lash out more violently than a Karen.

It was true. As a group, Sarah’s tended to be problematic. They were self-serving and self-centered, but always seemed able to get someone else’s sympathy right before stabbing them in the back — oftentimes quite literally. This Sarah had simply opted for a gun instead of a blade.

She had trusted this Sarah against her better judgement, and now she had a bullet in her belly because of it.

She looked up at the sky and tried to let the infinite blueness of it distract her from the throbbing pain. She closed her eyes and listened. She could hear the irregular chatter of a few squirrels. She could hear the whistle of a train that was probably farther away than it sounded. She could hear her heart beating as though it were beating in her ears. What she could not hear, though, were the soft snorts of her favorite horse, Luck. It was not surprising that Sarah…