The man looked as though he was about to give a sermon.
Despite the gloomy atmosphere and poor light, the man who sat listening could see the strength and purpose written on the other’s face. The man standing in front of him clasped his hands in a somewhat religious manner and began to speak. He was saying that when death comes to a person it should be a noble thing. It should be seen as a meaningful and worthy end; something to celebrate. He explained that the respect that accompanied it was important, if for no other reason than the fact that the opportunity to do so only presented itself once in a lifetime. He pointed out that he was a good choice when acting as a mentor on the subject.
He said he was willing to concede that the man in the chair may not have known what it was that he had run over, considering the fact that it had been dark at the time. He was willing to accept the possibility that he hadn’t even been aware of the bump. However, considering the other’s situation, brought about entirely by his own actions, he went on to say that he wouldn’t recommend that he allow his immediate expectations to get out of hand.
The man in the chair began to wriggle and grunt again. The tape across his mouth was making it difficult for him to breathe and his wrists began to burn even more from his continued struggling.
As the man removed the revolver from under his jacket.
He explained that Tiddles had been his world…