A Fowl Way

He was the last person acquitted by way of temporary insanity in the state of Indiana. He was never the same after that. Bullet was sitting next to Woody when an acquaintance asked him about the murder. Do you regret anything? the man asked. The only thing I regret, Woody replied, is that he was cremated He paused. Because that meant I could not piss on his grave. A rough life had turned Woody into a cold, troubled soul. The sweat began to roll down his forehead as his heart jumped even faster. The police officers took another small step. Bullet felt as if he were going to have a coronary. He was shaking tremendously. The sweat became so profuse that it burned his eyes. He could smell her cheap perfume, strong and soapy, as he analyzed her. The thirty something was petite and cute. They all sat and opened bottles of beer and began to chat. As far as everyone knew, Bullet and Woody were cold-blooded cop killers. * * * Everyone has a book in them. Whether it is what you are an expert at, passionate about or your special experience to share.