On foot, wandering a suburban side street, deserted save for an occasional passing car. Dusk, cloudy, cold, green trees whip in a strong wind.
Arm outstretched, .45 in hand, methodically firing into random buildings. Someone at my side, never coming into full view. Keep firing.
Pop. Pop. Pop.
Take careful aim at the gas tank of a parked motorcycle, pop. Nothing. Try again.