It was the hubris of each generation to think this anew, to think that their time was special, that all things would come to an end with them.

I use social media not to ask new people to like my stuff. I use social media to connect with that one reader who likes my stuff.

Even in the darkness, his smile threw shadows.

He’d only ever seen a gun once, a smaller one on the hip of that old deputy, a gun he’d always figured was more for show. He stuffed a fistful of deadly rounds in his pocket, thinking how each one could end an individual life, and understanding why such things were forbidden. Killing a man should be harder than waving a length of pipe in their direction. It should take long enough for one’s conscience to get in the way.

He thought of men like Hitler, Stalin, and Napoleon. All it took was a lot of seemingly decent people to put the wrong person in power and then fall under their spell.

Killing a man should be harder than waving a length of pipe in their direction. It should take long enough for one's conscience to get in the way.

A seed of hope caught a taste of moisture. Some wishful kernel buried deep, where he was loathe to acknowledge it lest it poison or choke him, began to sprout.