Talk to nice sleep.

Story 1. Robbery slash homicide.

The gun feels strange in my hand as I pull it up from the small shelf behind the counter.

I've held it in my hand hundreds of times and fired it even more, but never in a situation like this.

I've never pointed it at a person.

But that's just what I aim to do as I slide the safety off with my thumb, bringing it up

like my life depends on it, because it does.

My heart beats so fast it makes my vision pulse and my stomach sick.

I duck to the left, behind the acrylic display case case stacked with vapes and vape juice.

It's not something I think about consciously as I do it.

Instinctively, I want something between me and the two robbers with ski masks and pistols

on the other side of the counter.

But as I angle that way, I don't so much aim the weapon as I point it in their general direction.

They're both shouting at me, pointing their guns, but their words don't make sense to my adrenaline-addled brain.

I fire the gun crazily, pulling the trigger over and over again, turning my head away and squinting my eyes.

I fire until the pistol clicks empty, and then drop to my knees behind the counter,

shaking and fumbling to get the magazine out, even though I don't have a spare on me. It takes

me a long moment to come to my senses. When I do, I put my attention on the space between the

cash register and the vape case without getting to my feet.

I half expect to see the two robbers still standing there,

smiling through their ski masks, pointing their guns at me.

But they're gone.

...