Maybe they're too early. My feet are going to mar the snow, I see, looking out my frosted window. I wish I felt secure behind it. 10 mm Colt, blued steel. Hands shake as I install the firing pin.
Shells are under the kitchen counter.
Dump the box on the battered table, scrape a chair over scuffed linoleum. Incandescant lights look oh so warm and friendly. Dump the shells onto the table and load the first clip, ram it into the gun, cock it. Safety off, I rest it on the table. Muzzle points toward the oh so friendly window.