I run under a cloudless sky along the boardwalk. I pause to catch my breath. My stalker is shrouded in darkness. The night air suddenly reverberates with the sound of a gunshot. It echoes in my ears. I grit my teeth. I refuse to take ownership of the pain in my shoulder. I drop into a crouch. I pull a pistol out of a side holster. I look up at my ex-husband, aim and fire.
"It's a wrap," says the film director. "But next time, load your weapons with blanks." "Otherwise, you'll kill one another someday."
I smile.
"It's a wrap," says the film director. "But next time, load your weapons with blanks." "Otherwise, you'll kill one another someday."
I smile.
