Help the Gullible to Buy a Little Fable~

Pat was never quite the same after the shitstorm at HaS. When she turned off the computer, something turned off in Pat as well. She seemed more distant and unsure of herself. She frightened more easily, and remembering things was harder, like she was swimming through a deep pool in her mind. She had nightmares. She didn't talk about them and her husbando didn't ask. Conversation between the two happened less and less, until he said goodbye.

He moved on.

Everyone moved on.

Pat was left alone.

She tried starting a novel, but with every page she grew more and more afraid of what might come leaking out of her mind and through her pen onto the page. She finally decided one day to take a trip to the park. She sat on her blanket in the warm sun and silently ate her lunch. The fresh air felt good. Her eyes fell towards the last item in the picnic basket, the one wrapped gently in a oiled cloth. Pat carefully unwrapped the pistol and set it on the ground, watching it gleam in the sunlight. With just one tap, just one breath on the trigger, Pat thought, she would cause the hammer to strike the primer and cause the powder to ignite and send the bullet tearing out of the gun and into her-

Pat looked away from the gun and out towards the sunset, and thought about the pretty things.