FICTION
'The smell of cordite always makes her think of the fourth of July' -Tori Amos

For the Love of the Gun
-Gingerbread Fiction Witch


For months, work had been my priority. I had so many projects happening, it was difficult to get away. His restaurant closed for two weeks at the same as it did every year. I had deadlines and couldn't really relax or take time off. He cooked beautiful meals according to my ETA. I was usually two hours later. He didn't complain.

Finally, we managed to catch a movie. He even let me pick the chick flick. It was 10 P.M. and the night was so cold that it was almost painful to walk the mere 300 meters from the car to the cinema. As we settled ourselves into the warmth of the seats, I noticed a police officer I knew a few rows ahead and did a quick nod of hello as the lights dimmed.

I felt warmed by the theatre, by His shoulder and foot. By the simple time we'd taken out for this.

The movie was funny & light to start off with. I don't know much about it beyond that. Just as I began to appreciate the moment, things became noisy... I suddenly noticed red wine on my white skirt... and I looked at Him at the same time as he looked at me. He looked confused as I said "I have wine on my skirt"... it all happened so fast... "but you weren't drinking wine babe"....

I noticed the police officer friend of mine a few rows ahead had fallen asleep, chick flick I thought, typical.

But the noise was not that of a chick flick... it was that of a World War Two Docco. I felt a pull at my wrist. It was Him, lying in the floor between the rows "get down". I looked once more at my friend a few rows ahead, and noticed the sounds of his wife screaming this time. That's when it sunk in.