She enters the bar after dark. I am immediately captured. Waves of electricity pull me near. She turns toward another and smiles.

I am an avalanche.

Her eyelids close when she speaks to him; one lash falls gently toward the night. It lands on my arm. I make a wish and blow. She turns to me and whispers, “Be careful what you wish for.”

Maybe I should have listened.

She dances by herself for a moment then disappears. The night is still young, but I am not. I search for her. The crowd is black and white; she is in color. It is easy to trace her steps.

When I approach her, a bullet grazes my ear. The lobe disappears. I can only hear her voice as she whispers to me,

“I hold the gun, I always hold the gun.”