Sergio had just come out of the bank when he was shot. Almost as soon as he was back in his car a man appeared at his window and asked for the money. "Que dinero?" he responded. That can't have helped, but who can tell if things would have worked out differently if he had chosen to comply. The man with the gun pulled open the door and commenced shooting.
Sergio had a passenger. That she lived can be put down to one of those lucky breaks that tend to sit in the armoury of the the more shameless sort of screenwriter. The gunman had an accomplice, luckily not as trigger-happy as his mate. He pulled open the door and fired twice at the passenger's abdomen. One bullet missed and the other hit the mobile phone on her belt. She played dead and today has a small bruise on her belly. She was fortunate also that the man on the other side, who wouldn't stop until he had let off fourteen rounds, was concentrating all his fire on poor Sergio.
1 comment:
I wish I had your writing skills and your sensitivity to be able to write in so little words such a powerful, vivid and tragic tale of what is like to live in a violent country as Guatemala where death is our everyday bread.
I am moved by all your recent entries about the absurdity of the violence in Guatemala.
Please, extend my deepest condolences to the Sergio's family.
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