Pull the trigger, fire me up, the bullet wailed. It has been years since someone let me free. I want to shock the world with my might. I want to smash in to my target. I want to make the biggest bang. I want to blow up into smithereens. I want salvation. I want freedom. Then trigger was squeezed. The hammer fell. "Damn squib". That's all the bullet heard before it hit the ground.
Looks like the fog just spared my window to the street. The street lights looked liking smokers in an alley. The cobble stones were wet from the drizzle. The street dogs were busy barking at something. A breeze just unsettled the garbage can's lid. My world hasn't changed much. Everyday I look for some sign of change. Nothing seems to change. I have grown bald. My eyesight has dimmed. My kids have grown. The window pane has gathered dust and dirt. The spiders have evolved. Some old buildings have given way to new ones. The neon signs have gone. Still nothing seem to have changed. Change they say has to come from within. But then, what can come out of an empty narrow dead end?
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