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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Mar, 2025
Submitted to Contest #292
"Please," She begs. "Don’t.." The time ticks 1616 as Pancho presses the barrel of his pistol against her skull. There’s a black lushness to her hair that reminds him of his mother, a practised poise that reminds him of his own. Same age. Same heritage. "Aren't we acolytes of the same god?" She says, in the echoes of his prayers. "Aren't you a holy man?" Her whispers fight the adrenaline storm of semi-automatics chorusing in the distance. "You have a choice." She says. "You don’t have to do this." She is ri...
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