The Right Place

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It was hot and he had walked for a while
looking for just the right place
secluded and out of sight
this was a private party.

It hadn’t rained in weeks
but he wouldn’t have noticed that.
The hot gravel crunched under his shoes
and nothing could distract him.

He felt for the back pocket of his jeans
where hard metal jutted out awkwardly.
It barely fit, but he wouldn’t have to hide it much longer.
The wind blew and made little change to the treeless landscape.

He finally stopped and sat with his legs crossed
like an expectant child in school
but he had nothing to look forward to
only one more task to carry out.

He dragged his hands on the unpaved ground
one last attempt to feel.
It was full of little stones
appropriately hard and uncomfortable.

He pulled the gun from his pocket and felt its weight.
He raised it to his temple, surprisingly cool against his skin
one more dry, ragged breath
squeeze and pop.

His hand fell
and he slumped sideways.
When the wind blew,
dust stuck to his sweaty and bloodied face.

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