Title: The man with the gun (Working title) Theme: (currently "Lamp") Rating: Mature Genre: N/A Word Count: 313 The lamp flicked on and I startled him briefly simply by my unexpected presence in his home, sitting in the chair by a desk. He glanced down noticing the pistol drawn at my lap steadily aimed at him, then our eyes meet and he knew why I was there. His inquiry into who I was wasn't just pointless, it earned him a round fired from my .45 cal pistol. He stumbled back slightly before falling to the ground with a hard thud clutching his chest. I picked up the spent shell before I get up from the sofa to walk over to his prone form to finish the job. I hate when they don't die quickly, but I didn't know if the guy was armed or ready for me. The man's coughing up blood as he prays to god. I know he's going to die regardless, but the shot to the chest will add torturous minutes to his last moments so I decide to finish the guy off. I'd prefer to avoid any potential loose ends from this. I sight my pistol over the mans' head, close my eyes, and pull the trigger. At the moment I pull the trigger and feel the recoil from my gun, I feel something wet splash against my left leg. I'll have to get rid of my pants now. I hate throwing away perfectly good pants. I should have gone for a head shot from the start. The leg still twitches, rocking back and forth. The hand of his left arm at his side opens and closes for a few seconds before slowly stopping. I pick up the other spent shell before heading to the door to leave the house. I pause to turn off the light switch, which turns off the lamp, and then leave the house. I wonder what the wife is making for dinner.

Title: Bringer Theme: currently 'Lamp' Rating: G - All Audiences Genre: General Poetry Word Count: 102 Sitting, standing, shining. Boundless optimum sifting through the air. Strong gusts of wind blow it out: The old and rusted lamp. Dandy candles list within, The flickering light shining. Hurriedly dancing it's phantom dance, Before blown [i]out[/i]. Vices of gold reaped within its realms So many things happening between each life. The fickle friend, coming and going. Never staying too long. Straying betwixt and between each life Staying enough to be used. Many things occuring whilst it lives Beneath its wavering glow. Bringing light to the Darkest of Places, Seething hope to those Unknown. Ensnaring Sun's touch for a scant more: [b]Lamp.[/b]