Melted Magical Bullet
I was sitting across from her at the table, trying to not stare. We’d only talked once before, too briefly and now I was talking too much. I remember all our stories, they all had their own moments, yet this one story of hers is still ricocheting around days later a little more often than the others.
She told me of her recent pistol shooting lesson, that she was shooting metal plates, at close range, as part of her training. That is when it happen: PLINK, one bullet struck the target, flattened, received even more heat than the pistol alone had created, bounced up into the air, arced back towards her and landed down her shirt coming to a rest against her skin, inside her shirt. Yes, right, there, in, the, middle, of, inside, her, shirt… burning her skin, badly, with every moment it rested in all that beauty. She dropped the pistol and removed, knocked, bounced that melting burning magical bullet back out as fast as she could.
I asked to see the scar she described to me this magic bullet had created. I thought it sounded rather lovely.
She said no.
August 23, 2010 | 4 Photographs All In A Row
1 Melting Red Crayon Next To Her Car – 1 Map Of Italy On The Opposite Side Of The Wall From Our Table
1 White Blotch Next To My Car – 1 Woman Hiding From The Sun Next To Me As I Drove Away