Stepson of Anarchy
Flash fiction
A busy intersection. A busy trigger finger. Proceed with caution.
![Page & Spine - Stepson of Anarchy](https://jenniwiltz.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/11/StepsonofAnarchy.jpg)
If you want to know where all the balding, impotent weekend warriors of this city are, come to my street. They prowl and preen on souped-up Harleys that sound like a mash-up of Al Capone’s tommy gun and the cough of a smoker whose fluid-filled left lung rasps like a white shirt on a washboard in the muddy Mississippi. These mechanized hell hounds cruise my street at all hours of the early morning, revving and rumbling like Satan’s wet farts.
One day, I decided to do something about it. I read a magazine article about these guys called Minutemen who patrol the U.S./Mexican border without governmental help or approval, simply because they feel they must. People love them for it. I know I can trust this information because it was in Time.
So I bought a 9-mm Beretta from my mailman, who is more knowledgeable in the field of personal defense than anyone outside a federal prison. I cleaned it, polished it, loaded it, and slipped it into my coat pocket. Then I went down to the curb to wait.
Appeared in: Page & Spine
Published in: 2014