Day CCCXXXV

Murder

     I was driving up on Columbus Avenue to pay her a visit, when I saw this dude run across the street, a gun in his hand glimmering in the sunlight.

     “Te dije que te mato!” He screamed as he ran across the street. In English, it was: “I don tol ya, I was gona kill ya!”

     Since these assholes are always playing stupid games, I didn’t pay him any mind. I saw a parking spot, parked my car, and went inside to make my pitch. But as business was very slow, and we were a cash business, she smiled, and said:

     “I like em, but…my money’s short, please come back next week, okay.”

     She was real sweet, we did a lot of business in the past, and I wanted to keep her happy, so I didn’t push it. I’ve never liked pressuring people. Just because you can sell the freaking Brooklyn Bridge, doesn’t mean you should. It turned out to be a real short visit, and as I closed her door behind me, I heard a resounding,

     “K A P O W!”

     One shot, I knew it was gunfire. I looked dead ahead, then south, north and spotted the dude with the gun. He had shot the driver in the car in front of me, right in the temple. The guy was sitting in his car, and when their argument heated up, the dude put his gun to the guy’s head and shot him. The man was slumped over the wheel, blood was streaming down his face, and the murderer was gloating over him. I rushed into my car, quickly turned it on, and started to back up. I wanted to get the hell out of there fast, but he spotted me, and I could feel his evil stare as our eyes locked for an instant. He didn’t want any witnesses, and he knew I had seen him.