What can YOU say in six sentences?
I always figured, when I got older, God would sort of come into my life somehow. But he didn’t.
-- No Country For Old Men
Giorgi Radislav died with one shoeless leg in his pants and with the other not yet in its sock, the whole man having slumped against a wall with a shotgun blast to his chest.
The blood spatter would need to be cleaned from the Regal Motel's nubby cottage-cheese ceiling and the walnut-colored veneer of everything else.
The carpet was a goner under Giorgi's body.
The Hudspeth County Clarion declared, "West Texas' Most Famous Communist Shot In Motel Love Nest," although, to be accurate (and what newspaper wishes to be inaccurate?) Giorgi was just a garden variety freethinker, an atheist who liked to pique the Baptist monoculture, and he was no more communist than the Rotary Club.
When the outraged husband of the woman Giorgi pleasured every Thursday from 2 to 4 p.m. came through the door with several of his leering friends, Giorgi's thoughts curiously did turn to God momentarily.
He thanked the Almighty that he had completed the act of love and that he would be at least partially dressed when the police arrived, but it was more of a casual, "hey, thanks" than a prayer.