The Morning Moods

..."The energy visibly drained from him as the adrenalin rush faded. Hishead fell forward into his hands, scepter across his knees, too worn andburdened with grief to weep anymore.She rose from the sofa and gently led the man up the stairs, guiding himinto a bedroom. Sitting him on the bed, she removed his shoes and coaxedhim into lying down."Rest now. Tomorrow is soon enough for what must be done."She covered him with warm blankets, placed the scepter on thenightstand, darkened the room with heavy draperies, then slipped out andclosed the door as he dropped into the sleep of the emotionallyexhausted.********Sunday, November 26, 2000Who am I?Tom awoke, finding he had a pillow in his arms, as well as under hishead. For a moment he wondered where the motel was, then he recalled theevents of the previous day. He delayed for a time, relishing the warmcomfort of the bed. At last, he roused himself and sat on the bed edgeto examine the room.Still dark from the covered window, he made out a. But no. That wasn't likely. Pete wasn't a man who would deliberately fuck up a weapon he might need later. And anyway, Max was certain that Pete didn't suspect Max of having guessed his intentions. When Pete undertook to settle the score he would do it when the odds were all on his side. And he'd do it with little or no warning. Maybe just enough warning to let him gloat a bit.So Max decided to get himself a bit of an edge in the form of the whippet. He had brought the shotgun out to the toolshop and put it in the vise. With the aid of a hacksaw, he removed the barrel just ahead of the tubular magazine. Then he removed the stock just behind the pistol grip. What he had when he finished wasn't the beautiful Winchester shotgun he'd had before, and it wouldn't be very useful on a duck hunt. But for his purpose, it was lethal.The whippet was short enough now to be concealed beneath a long coat. There was a pair of overalls hanging on the wall. They were the kind that fit right over.
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