By Kevin J. Curtis Henry Klein was not quite five feet tall and weighed less than three-quarters as much as most men. He had always been small—which meant he had always been picked on by the other boys in his town. That was years ago now, and as an adult Henry Klein had turned mean. He had battled depression for most of his life until he found solace in a nickel plated pistol that his dad had left him before he had died. Henry didn’t care whether he lived or died, since being the boy that everyone picked on was all he had ever known. But something happened when he shot the revolver and felt the smooth action of the cylinder turning. He practiced with the gun until he could pull it from the holster and fire it accurately in the blink of an eye. Henry had heard about another man… a gunfighter who had injured his shooting hand. He had been gunned down shortly afterward in a duel. Henry decided to purchase a second gun and he practiced with his left hand until he was almost as quick ...
The thoughts of a writer.