Why am I here?
Because I have to be somewhere.
It’s all about coincidence. Everything in this great world exists because of the accidental pulling of a cosmic trigger.
Science believes the universe is in a constant state of flux, which is a scientific way of expressing change. And we are no less a part of the vast open space of bonded particles than is Jupiter or Mars, and we exist in the very same state of flux. When we run into an obstacle to this state of change, like the man standing in front of me holding a gun, it impedes our progress and we end up like a miniature Big Bang. We turn dark from being compressed and explode. Although, my potential Little Bang right now would more likely occur from a bullet and not compression of my ability to stay in flux.
“Give me your wallet,” he said.
“And if I won’t?”
“Don’t fuck with me.”
When people get together they create a dynamic in a system where something will happen; it has to. Usually it leads to more or less people, either by attraction or contraction. If I deny this interloper in my case, it will be deletion by contraction. “I don’t have a lot of money.”
“Just give me what you have.”
“Is it all right if I move my hand to get my wallet?”
“Do it slowly.”
“Wouldn’t killing me bother you?”
“No. I’m never going to see you again anyway. You’re like dead to me whether I shoot you or not.”
Carefully I lift out my wallet. “Why are you robbing me?”
“What the fuck do you care?”
“I wonder why things happen.”
“This is about money. My girlfriend needs a fix.”
“Everything happens because of coincidence,” I said. “There are mega-trillions of particles interacting, clumping in an infinite space at 2.7 million miles an hour. Something will happen. Tomorrow something else will happen, but tonight this is happening. I left the bar at the right time and passed by you at the wrong time, a man with a gun and a girlfriend who needs dope. And what could have happened, didn’t. I should be home in my warm bed, but I’m not. I’m being robbed and threatened.”
As I rambled, he opened the wallet, holding the gun slightly upward while he removed my credit cards. Then, continuing to hold the gun awkwardly in one hand, he opened the bill section with the other and looked inside. “There’s only a couple of ones in here.”
“That’s all I’ve got.”
His forefinger must have squeezed the trigger as he pulled the bills out of the wallet. The gun went off. The bullet entered below his lip, cracked a hole in his teeth, went upward through his head and tailed off like a comet into the night sky. He staggered back, then crumpled to extinction.
Fiction writer living in the Cincinnati area. His work has appeared in The Tampa Review,Detroit News, Coe Review, Monarch Review, the Newer York, Lunch Ticket, Gravel, Zodiac Review, Barbaric Yawp and Bull. His books include Children of the Enemy, Alpha Wolves, The Pool Boy’s Beatitude and The Death of Anyone. You can find him at:www.magicmasterminds.com/djswykert He is a wolf expert.