This Guy
By Chuck Wendig • Jul 2nd, 2009 • Category: Short FictionI kick him in the knee and the cap pops like rotten wood. The leg folds backward and he topples. I hit him in the head with the tire iron. It’s easier than squashing a pumpkin.
I kick him in the knee and the cap pops like rotten wood. The leg folds backward and he topples. I hit him in the head with the tire iron. It’s easier than squashing a pumpkin.
It isn’t like peeling an orange. It isn’t like popping a walnut. Skulls are harder than I’d imagined.