Sorry for the later post, but I spent all Saturday cleaning and got nothing else done. Still I like how this short scene worked out. Enjoy it and remember:
Let your imagination soar when you read.
THIS IS AN UNEDITED PARTIAL SCENE
Something cool and soft pressed against his back and a hard piece of metal met ground into the top of buttocks. I had no idea what was going on, but could feel the throbbing of a second gun. I remained frozen in place, something George will curse me out over. My lover of ten years taught me how to defend myself against attackers. He swore his undercover position for the FBI would come into our home. I never believed it, but looked like I would have to apologize to him about that. Someone held me against the wall with a gun stuffed in the front of his jeans.
“What . . What do . . “ Calm down. Shit. Don’t be a pussy when it matters the most. I hated violence of any kind. The mere thought of having to harm another living and breathing item made me sick. It’s why I ate only veggies, fresh fruit, and beans. “What do you want?”
The pressure holding me to the wall faded, but I remained still, with my face pressed into the chipped gray paint. Time for some repairs. I loved remolding. George would grip and groan about me putting him to work, but the moment his shirt left his body, I’d make it all up to him. That we both loved. Shit. What am I thinking about? My opportunity to fight back had been given to me.
“Back up, but remain facing forward.”