WTS OR Ruger MK II 338 Win Mag

[VinnieBoomBah]

All replied to. For trades I'd like to stay pretty much with what I have listed.

 

[chefbq]

Barrel length?

 

[VinnieBoomBah]

Barrel length?

I'll check in the morning

 

[VinnieBoomBah]

The barrel is 24"

 

[VinnieBoomBah]

Still here. Got a couple decent offers, but for trades I would like to stick with kind'a close to what I have already listed.

And I am starting to come to terms with the fact that I may not have a great future in firearms sales. Maybe I should go back to writing noir fiction?

I tried it once before, and I know my prose is a bit heavy handed, but what stopped me was right after he walks in to the diner he sees a man and woman sitting in a both arguing quietly, and for the life of me I could not figure out why they where there, but I could not make them go away. I remembered that Steven King had once said that he would tell the story inside his head from different characters points of view to make sure the story line stood up.

So I ran this scene as I wrote it from his point of view and got nothing. Then I reran it from Angelique's point of view and when she walked into the diner she saw the man and woman, she recognized the woman but not the man and from that I knew who the man was.

Yeah, one of my fictional characters knew more about my made up story than I did.
So I haven't gone back to that world. . . .


________________________________________

The rain had started just after we hit the coast road. Old and dried out from years of desert heat the windshield wipers were doing their best to keep up, but as if to acknowledge that it was a losing battle one side had torn free and was flapping like a flag of surrender. Thankfully the logging trucks had all rumbled off to rest for the night and other travelers were few and far between so what felt like it should have been a nightmare drive was reduced to just a bad dream.



Angelique was having troubled dreams of her own. She had fallen into an uneasy sleep in the back seat an hour ago leaving me alone with the road, the rain and my own troubled thoughts. What can I tell you about the rain. It wasn't like the sudden and violent downpours that turn arroyos into death traps for those foolish enough to miss the telltale signs, and it was more than the maddening drizzle that last for days like some ancient torture. No, this rain felt like it had a purpose, a reason for raining so long and so hard, maybe to scrub the earth clean of the dirt we foolish mortals had tracked in, to restore the balance of things between the earth and sky, between good and evil. As far as I could tell it had no intent of stopping till it was done.



If I was a betting man I would put good money on the rain never stopping.



The map had shown a small town tucked back in a sheltered cove where I planned to get some food and maybe something to hide a little whiskey in. Night miles tend to be twice as long as regular miles and my stomach and the gas gauge were both telling me that it was time to stop by the time the diners lights cut through the rain. I killed the engine and sat there for a moment watching the lone figure inside play a card game against himself. He would pick up one hand, make a play, walk to the other side of the counter, pick up the cards on that side and repeat the process. I watched him for a couple hands as he moved the pins on the cribbage board, taking sips from the coffee cup on the counter and playing each hand like it was his own.



"That's Nathan, and if you're wondering, no, he never cheats"



Luckily I still had by seatbelt on, otherwise I might have jumped out the window. Angelique had not made any noise when she sat up, not an easy thing to do in a car as old as mine. "Didn't think you would know someone this far from your home. Does he normally play against himself?"



Angelique had slipped her jacket on and was already sliding out the door. "Around here with towns the size of ours anything within 30 miles is as good as home. He used to play with his brother, they would yell and curse at each other so loud people that were passing through would be afraid to come in. Even saw them walk out together one time and dump the board in the gutter."



Even as the words were slipping past my lips I could feel the cold chill that comes with knowing an answer to a question you wish you had never asked, "So how come he's playing by himself now?" She paused just outside the door, the rain was washing over her but she gave no indication that she was close to being soaked to the bone.



"His brother was killed in a hold up. They gunned him down right in front of Nathan. The was no reason, Nathan had given them all the money. It was almost like they did it just to show that they could. Nathan has never raised his voice or said an unkind word again from that day on." Her door closed and I watched her walk in and run up to Nathan and hug him like the long lost friend that he was. I sat in the car for another minute feeling like the heel I was.



If the rain washed anything off me as I walked to the door there would be no way to prove it. I stepped into the diner feeling just as dirty and cold as I had when I got out of my car.

 

[VinnieBoomBah]

So, no love for my writing

Oh well, still here and it looks like it might be for a while. Might need to start thinking of winter gear for the team.

 

[mrorca]

Killer deal on the rifle... I need it like I need another hole in my head though.. You even picked a great time to sell just before hunting season. Out of curiosity what would your thoughts on meeting at a FFL in Vancouver be.

 

[VinnieBoomBah]

For the right deal Vancouver is fine with me.

 

[matts]

Looks like your writing skills might be working Vinnie....

 

[VinnieBoomBah]

Sold!