Something

“My father once told me that if you try to be something you’re not, you’ll end up being nothing.” I feel those grey eyes on my back as I stare across the desert night. “All I’ve ever been good at is killing. It’s all I’ll ever be good at.”

“That’s not much.”

Inside, my soul thrashes against its cage, but I ignore it as usual. A conscience will get you killed in this business. “It’s something.”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s