A while ago Doug Hoffman had a writing contest at his Balls and Walnuts blog. The rules: all entries had to be 75 words long. Not 75 or less. Exactly 75. This tight constraint made for some interesting entries. Here’s the best I could do:

He turned. Too late, I saw the gun.

Wait. Back up.

I was the shadow, he was the subject. Go where he goes, see who he sees. Get paid.

He wasn’t supposed to have a gun, but that’s life.

A hole through my jacket. A little blood. Him, running towards me, stumbling, shouting. “No! I thought you were her husband!”

Then I held a gun, too. “You’re a lousy shot,” I said.

I was better.

What surprised me was how easily I fell into the rhythm of a crime story, even in just a few sentences. Quite possibly it’s a sign that things have gotten a little too familiar, and I need to write something else for a while.