She was falling apart, both inside and outside. Barely breathing, her heart ached and she crushed both palms to her chest to try and alleviate the pain but her eyes never looked away from his back. Not even when he grabbed the hand of the woman beside him did she stop looking at the way his shoulders were wider than his waist, the way his hair was cut at the nape of his neck.
By the time he was no longer visible her cheeks were laminated by her tears.
He’d called her with a tone in his voice that made her hesitate. “Meet me at the mall,” was the message; the background of his call uncharacteristically quiet.
She’d sat at the food court sipping a soda at the bar stools that lined the outer edge where she had a clear view of both mall directions.
She saw them coming and time slowed. She hadn’t taken a sip from her soda since she could see them both holding hands and walking towards her.
Both standing on the other side of the bar, the woman leaning on it using it to prop up her chest as if her spine was not enough to hold the meagre double A chest, he told her that the affair was over. There was no explanation, just that smug look on her face, even after all the cheating she’d done to him. He’d spent hours complaining to her about the cheating he knew about but couldn’t concretely prove and stayed quiet about.
Where was that information as he ended it? She asked herself as she wiped away the glisten on her cheeks. Where was that lying whore’s smile coming from, was it because she’s cheated a hundred times and never been caught? Was it because she was able to shit all over him like the fickle bird she was?
She packed up her purse and the book she’d been reading before they came to her. Slinging it over one shoulder quickly she rushed to the other end of the mall.
Entering the outdoors store, she headed directly to the back where guns were sold.
The man at the counter, a hairy man, greeted her in brown leafy camoflauge with, “Hiya miss. What can I do for you?”
“Hi, I want a handgun.”
The man chuckled, “Okay, and what kind of handgun? I mean have you thought about what kind of shooting you’re going to do with it?”
“Yes. I want the most accurate hand gun you have. I’ll be hunting with it.”
“Okay, but I really don’t recommend hunting with a handgun.”
“Whatever mister, that’s what I want, okay?”
“Alright,” the man said, raised hands. “Do you have your gun safety course certification?”
“Yeah,” she said as she pulled out the wallet sized card.
“Great,” he said and turned around. He looked into a display case against the wall and opened it. As he turned, he showed her a small dark metal gun, almost black with a short barrel. The biggest thing about the gun was the grip, and even that fit comfortably in her palm.
“This gun,” he continued, “is the Ruger LCP 380 and is ideal for women’s hands. Small but accurate, this gun is also super light and almost imperceptible kickback.” He took the gun from her hand and opened the chamber to show her the inside, “it shoots pretty darn well and although the base model sights are fixed, as with many handguns, the sights are well aligned with the short barrel which makes its accuracy pretty good.” He handed it back to her and she held it in her palm, wrapping her fingers lightly around the grip. It felt good.
“You sell the ammunition too?” she said.
“Yep,” he placed a box on the glass counter with a heavy chunk.
“I’ll take it.”
“Great,” He picked up the gun, put it back in the box and made a pile with the ammunition. Walking to the front, he began ringing up the items. “So what kind of hunting did you say you were going to be doing?”
“Birds,” she said.
The man began laughing. “I wish you luck with that,” he said as he scanned the items, beep, beep.
“Bird hunting with a pistol.” He shook his head and continued chuckling as she walked out of the store.
