Then There Was This Time When I Was Held at Gunpoint
Life and time slowly passes by.
It's nothing short of amazing what will run through a person's head when they are staring into the face of a dangerous firearm. You begin, without being told, to question your own destiny as well as your mortality. And nothing anyone says makes any sense or makes you feel better.
It's as scary as standing perfectly-still in the middle of a trail in the woods watiing for a coiled rattler to strike. Time slows down considerably. And you are powerless to do anything heroic. Firearms have no heart or soul. No amount of pleading can help you. Even the good deeds and moral life you've led are of no use to you now.
What I will do for a hub.
For the purpose of this story, I put myself in the precarious place of someone holding a gun on me while they robbed my birdhouse shop which has a considerable amount of tools and things that could be fenced for a pocketful of cash. It wasn't easy, my friends. More than once I thought about changing the plot of this story, but by doing that, I would have dishonored myself in always finishing what I start.
So for a few moments, you can peruse the things I thought about while looking down the barrel of this firearm that I never got the caliber or name for those facts didn't matter that much.
Look. An armed robber wearing a CSI sweat shirt.
"Do I have a bulls eye on my forehead?"
"Do I have a big sign in front of my shop that reads, "Armed Robbers Welcome."
"Why is this thief's hand shaking? That can be bad or good."
"Maybe he's a young armed robber and now afraid of being arrested."
"Sure is hot out here. Sweat is pouring off my neck."
"Wish his partner would hurry up. I got three big orders to fill."
"I pray to God that this gun will misfire."
"Incidentally, this gun looks older than most."
"Come to think of it, I am getting hungry. I wonder if I have any hotdogs in the refrigerator?"
"Heyyy, look. A neighbor driving by. Heyyyyy! Look up this way."
"Doofus! Any other time he would have broken his neck trying to find out what I'm doing."
"Wonder if I might start-up a conversation with this robber?"
"On second thought, he did say to not open my mouth."
"Wonder what God really looks like?"
"I feel something crawling up my leg. I hope that it's not a tick."
"What a time to have to use the bathroom."
"Reckon this guy would like my impression of Sylvester Stallone? Adr--ian! Adr--ian! Hey, I still got it."
"We've stood here now going on half an hour. What's his partner doing?"
"Whewww! He took his gun down and now checking on his partner."
"That's funny. His partner fell asleep in my birdhouse shop."
"That was an interesting 28 minutes."
Notice to Readers:
This piece is intended for humorous uses only. I do not condone the use of firearms in any way except for the defense of one's family, home or possessions.
That is the only reason. Guns are not toys nor designed to be used in a childish, amateur fashion.
Kenneth
A taste of real life.
