Butterflies

by johannespunkt

“Come on, just bloody shoot me,” said the first child, impatiently shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

The second child was unsteady, resting the barrel on the first child’s shoulder.

“You need to blow my head clean off, pick up that thing and point it.”

He made some swallowing gestures but couldn’t complete the motion, and then he pointed it straight at her ear. “And you’re sure about this?”

“Sure as day.”

He pulled the trigger and there was a hellish noise and when he opened his eyes again, there was but a cloud of butterflies dispersing.

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