9/25 Fuckin’ Mormons…

The Constant: The slow crunch of grass broke Jeffery’s concentration. A step was the culprit. It came slowly, inevitable, so sure of itself.

Jeffery didn’t look back. He knew this day would come.

“Excuse me, sir. Can I have a moment of your time to talk to you about the miracle of Jesus Christ, our Lord savior?”

Fucking Mormons, Jeff thought to himself.

He turned around guiltily, ready to dismiss him. The shotgun slug ripped his chest open. His eyes were still adjusting after he fell to the ground.

The smoke from the shotgun filled the air. Jeffery clung to life with each breath, inhaling another waft of smoke with every gasp.

The assailant aimed the mouth of his gun at Jeff’s head.

“Donna’s boys send their regards.”

The final curtain, Jeff thought. His heart sank. He remembered the Final One and remembered to finish the job.

The last sight he aw was the cold ground on a November night. The last voice he heard was the sound of his daughter.

“It’s done.”

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