Continued from Powerless, part viii:
Dan was really having a tough time getting the events in his world to make any semblance of sense. Wife gone, divorcing him. Out of money, out of work, out of luck. Well, he did have some money left, not a lot but a few bucks. His world felt like it was closing in on him, crushing him, and he really had no way out, felt like there was nothing that would get him out of his predicament. He was going to be homeless soon, no matter what his brother did, no matter how hard he worked to get work. The lack of it was quite literally killing him.
He shouldn’t have let his brother take those guns, but there’s no way of telling where they were at this point.
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Paul had after getting the bag with the guns from his brother and saying goodbye to him headed back to his house. He was very, very wary of his actions. He did not want to draw unwanted attention to himself. He managed to make it 3 blocks before he had the urge to open the bag and look inside of it. Nothing but the guns and the ammo. And a piece of paper.
For the guns.
Dan hadn’t a pot to piss in and he went and sold most of his stuff for these guns. Dan said he had a few bucks extra but not much else. The crazy bastard had gone to a gun store and bought the guns legally. Meaning had he done anything illegal with them, they would have traced it straight back to him. Paul looked at the receipt, laughed and said a barely audible “Dumbass.”
When he got the guns home, Paul called the store that sold his brother the guns and asked if they would be interested in buying them back. He said yes, there was a thirty day 100% money back guarantee. He told them part of the story, but not the entire thing. Said hius brother had bought them for him, but that he didn’t want or need them, he had his eye on something else. They said they would be happy to take everything back so long as he had the receipt. He said he did and that he would be bringing them back in a little while. He thanked them for their time and hung up the phone.
Part one complete. Now all he had to do was get them to the store and get the money back to his brother so he could have enough money to live and get himself back on his feet…
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Dan walked down the street with torn jeans on, a faded plain black t-shirt, $40 dollars in his pocket and nothing to stop him from doing anything he wanted. He could go as far as $40 would take him. Not far in this world, but he didn’t have to go far to do the little he was thinking of doing.
At this point in his life all he wanted to do was forget. At this point in his life all he wanted was his old life back, but there was no way of getting that back. At this point he felt the need to have a drink. He wanted to feel good, and he could not think of any other way of doing that. He had nothing else.
That’s it from here, America. G’night.