That split second between action and inaction can seem interminable.
Waiting, frozen and silent in the shadows
I had to watch it all play out in front of me
like one of those flickering films from long ago
I saw it all
I heard it all
I felt it all
I watched her hand lower and reach for the gun.
I heard the sound of my own
I heard the sound of my own voice
I heard the sound of my own voice echo
He was not going to make it.
This time I pulled the gun and shot her.
He looked at me
then down at her
lying cold and twisted on that cellar floor.
The woman he called Anna.
There would be time enough
for explanations recriminations
for explanations recriminations and realisations
He was still alive.
As was I.