I keep the .22 on the nightstand. Not for defense. For weight. Every morning, I eject the cylinder, spin it, and whisper the names of people I failed to save. The click of the hammer on an empty chamber is my confession. A primeshot with no powder. Just the sound of mercy not taken.
They say a diary records what happened. Mine records what I almost let happen. diary primeshots
The Cartridge Diary
Tonight, I wrote: "I am the misfire that keeps walking." I keep the