I should be so lucky

I should be so lucky (for Mairi Kennedy)

There is no hesitation. I just react. Which is odd for someone who has avoided any form of conflict for his entire life. It's a crazy situation but as I grab the barrel of the gun I'm not thinking about the danger, I'm thinking that this is the first time I've ever touched a real gun.

It feels heavier than I imagined. I'm trying to pull it away from the cashier and my fellow customers. They scramble for cover. In my imagination I thought they'd join in and help me but now it's just me and him.

It's been a while since I've been in such close proximity to another human being. Last time it was aunt Mable at Kylie's wedding. In a strange way tangoing with my balaclava, gun totting friend is preferable.

We continue to dance. Nobody is wanting to cut-in. It's just us. Me, him and that gun. I'm winning though. I'm actually winning. My strength surprises me, and by the widening look in his eyes, it surprises him too. That's when he raiases his knee and connects. I think you know where.

I crumple, releasing my grip on the gun. The room explodes.

-------------------

The consultant is showing me an x-ray. Telling me that the bullet narrowly missed this vital organ and that vital organ. He tells me that my paralaysis is the good kind, the kind that might not be permanent, that over time that sensation may return.

I should be so lucky.