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Home alone.
The sound of breaking glass
wrenched her from sleep
and the fear in icy tendrils
prickled the nape of her neck,
pulling the tiny hairs
and standing them on end.
Perspiration beaded her forehead,
its little runnels slipping down
between her breasts,
soaking the front of her nightgown.
The shot rang out in the darkness,
a bold flash, at once blinding,
and her ears were stunned to silence.
A scream tore from her throat,
and she waited in the silence,
eyes again adjusting to the night.
As she crept through the doorway into the hall,
the smell of burnt gunpowder was nauseating.
Smoke clung to her like a shroud,
its gray wisps still rising
from the trembling.38
as she dialed the number …
“911”
“Help me?
I’ve just shot an intruder.”
C.J. Heck
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C.J. Heck
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