Photo Story: The Cold Bullet

The story goes that when bank robber Wells Duluth was shot dead, the bullet came out the other side encased in ice. The former fire & brimstone preacher had left his wife and children for a life of crime. It was spring in Cheyenne, Wyoming, but by nightfall the temperature fell from 55 degrees to 15 below. Beers turned to popsicles. Geese screamed from the river, legs locked in ice. A black cloud sagged to earth, crushing the church. They cremated Duluth in the iron welder’s stove, and by morning the cherry blossoms had bloomed, blowing through town like snow.

David Drury lives in Seattle, Washington. His fiction has been published in Paper Darts and Moonglasses. He has been kicked out of every casino in Las Vegas.

3 Responses to “Photo Story: The Cold Bullet”

  1. sian says:

    felt every word like a knife, wow

  2. John D says:

    Wow! I could feel the cold. Ouch! The geese with their legs locked in ice. Oh my…so poignant and beautiful. I bow down, Sir.

  3. john Walkin says:

    Brilliant, poetic simplicity. Love it.

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