Part of the few times that I experimented with writing a short story via a series of tweets. This was back when Twitter had the 120 character limit and didn't really support proper threading.

Date of original writing: March, 2012

When the storm broke I didn’t realize it straight off. It might’ve been because I was asleep. Or it might’ve been that my head was buzzing.

I stood at the window wishing that the rain was still hopscotching on the roof. Now I’d have to get back to work. I wasn’t sure if I could.

I pulled on my grey coat with more difficulty than I hoped to have and headed out. The dull bright day stuck to me like gum on new shoes.

Driving through town I thought of what I would tell them. I hadn’t so much as called in a week. They knew I had needed time but still...

It looked as run down as ever. The renovations yet never-ending. A tax thing I guess. If the building’s never finished it never exists.

I walked in and headed towards the back. Towards the office. I knew he’d be there. He never left. I have no proof that he wasn’t born here.

Going in without knocking I found him behind his desk on the phone. As always. When I sat down in front of him he hung up and turned to me.

"So how worried should I be?", he asked without pausing to take a breath. "About as worried about running into Godzilla as I am."

He sighed and nodded, feigning conviction. We both knew that the last time we met things were different. My crew was still alive then.

"Are you back to work?", he quizzed me matter-of-factly. I told him I wasn’t sure yet, that I wanted to know what his plans were.

He chuckled like I’d just asked him for the secrets to his card tricks. (If he’d known any.) "You’re the recovering, where do wish to go?"

"Anyplace other than a pine box.", I stated bluntly. "You told us it would be safe." At this I saw him flinch. "Kid. Life’s not perfect."

"I’m not your fuckin’ kid. And I’m aware that it’s not perfect. It’s more than not perfect when you get ambushed and shot to Hell!"

I stood without realizing it and he reached under his desk. "Hey, hey I’m sorry. I know it’s been rough. I didn’t mean anything."

"Did you mean to get them killed?!", I screamed. His eyes went wide but his hand remained under the desk. "No I didn’t know!"

"I sent you in but that’s all! You guys were the best why would I set you up?" I felt the disgust in my gut rise and fall with each breath.

I looked him right in his bloodshot eyes, "I heard the tapes. I know what you did. And now you’re going to pay." His eyes narrowed.

His hand moved up from under the desk and I saw what I expected, a nickel plated .38 Special. The revolver gleamed in the dim light.

Then the light changed. It grew brighter, it began to pulse with a heartbeat of alternating red and blue. I smirked. He looked pissed.

I stood my ground and saw his face fall as the footsteps came closer. "You should really check that thing once and a while.", I grinned.