This little guy is my current mascot, the leading light in the pantheon of charms I keep about me in an effort to divine some sort of light from the ether.You might think he's limited, but to me he seems especially well-honed for the job at hand. When all you have is a rifle, everything starts looking like a battle. Lost your head? You can still shoot 'em up good. A dearth of functioning legs didn't stop one N. Kelly from trying to kill everything in sight.
As such, he's my counterweight. When I'm not tough enough to let go, this guys breaks my knuckles, one by one. When I'm too tired to bother, he points the rifle at my face. When I can't see in the dark, he screams 'Forward!'
He's the hard arse to my soft heart, the trench-bound fighter to my pussy-footing perambulations, the fresh blood dripping from the stilled heart on my sleeve. Neat, huh?
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