Jawile
Think Less
I sit on my wooden stool. My back aches, and my fingers hurt. I put a cartridge of ammo into the back of a freshly-made Glock.
"Finally." I muttered, taking a piece of bread out of my oven. I take a bite, and shoot a target on the wall. The sound of the gunshot echoes.
"Finally." I muttered, taking a piece of bread out of my oven. I take a bite, and shoot a target on the wall. The sound of the gunshot echoes.