Prologue
210 Words
Prologue
“Give me your wallet, motherfucker!”
Shit. I was being robbed. Several minutes earlier, I’d been at a Christmas party hosted by my friends Chris and Patrick, happily stuffing my third and final piece of devil’s food cake into my mouth before washing it down with my fourth or fifth glass of white wine. And now I was standing in a dark, deserted alley, that I’d cut through in a misguided attempt to shorten my walk home, with a silver handgun stuck in my face. I glanced at the guy with the gun before reaching into my pocket for my wallet. He was black and dressed entirely in black: black knit hat, black down jacket, black pants, black boots.
“Hurry up!” the man in black yelled.
He snatched the wallet from my hand as I tried to hand it to him then he shoved it into his pocket and looked at me. I thought for sure he was going to shoot me in the face.
This is it, Mark Cross, I silently told myself as I closed my eyes. Your life is over.
But instead of feeling the blow of a bullet, I felt the butt of a gun strike me hard in the face, causing me to cry out in pain and drop to my knees.
- Writer
