Ralph Seeforwun walked out of the pawn shop, cradling a brown paper bag in his hands.

The young college dropout pushed up the brim of his ratty fedora and looked at the sky. It was a typical

Washington winter night. The sky was a sheet of rain clouds, turned bruise-purple by light pollution. The air

was damp and heavy, scented with the inner-city perfume of garbage, engine oil, and diesel exhaust. It

reflected his mood.

Ralph walked up to a crosswalk and breezed right through it. He didn't bother

checking for cars; no one was out this late at night- no one sane at least. The only signs of life was the

occasional street sweeper, cleaning up the day's garbage to make room for more.

Ralph fondled the lump in the bag. Do I really want to do this? He thought as he walked down the rain-

slicked sidewalk. Of course he didn't want to do this. There were hundreds, no, thousands of things he'd

rather do than this. He could go home. He could write to his parents for more cash. He could apply for

welfare…

Ralph shook his head. No, those would only prolong his misery; like keeping a terminally ill patient on life

support. He made too many mistakes to turn back. He was in a bind, and the only way out was in the bag.

In the distance, Ralph could make out the lights of the city park. He sighed; back in happier times, he would

spend hours sitting on the park with his journal. He would open his mind to the world around him and let

his mind run wild. He'd written countless stories in that little park.

It had been the perfect place for creating dreams. It would also be the perfect place to end them.

Ralph sat down on the wrought-iron bench, resting his tired legs. Really should've worked out more. He

thought. Oh well, too late for that now.

Ralph looked around; it was amazing what a lack of light did to a place. Most of the park was covered in

shadows, despite the harsh blue glare of the streetlights. Seesaws and jungle gyms became bizarre, alien

structures. Trees became hideous monsters, covered with clusters of tentacles. It was actually kind of

creepy.

Ralph shifted slightly. The cold wrought iron was anything but comfortable. Never had been.. Ralph didn't

care. Back when things were better, this had been

his favorite spot in the park. From here, he'd been able to see everything; kids playing on the playground

like monkeys, old folks feeding birds, young couples swooning over each other, bikers, smokers, artists; it

was like a cross section of the entire city. The bench had been his birds-eye view, his almighty throne. Now

it was about to become something else.

Ralph tore open the bag. He reached in with a trembling hand and pulled out a nickel-plated .22 caliber

revolver and a tiny box of ammo. He turned the revolver over in his hands, examining it. The firearm was a

cheap little thing; low caliber, shoddy finish, and heavily scratched. It was what firearms enthusiasts called "

a piece of junk". Ralph doubted the little gun would fire more than one or two shots without jamming. It

didn't matter. Just like a Marine Corps Sniper. He thought grimly; one shot's all I need.

Ralph pulled out the guns' cheaply-made cylinder and slowly, mechanically loaded cartridges into the

chambers..

You know, it's not too late.

Ralph stopped. He noticed a trash can under a nearby street light. Just toss the gun in there and go home.

For a second, Ralph imagined himself doing exactly that. He would just toss the gun in the garbage and

head back to the apartment. Than he could…

Ralph shook his head. It was too late. It was too late when he lost his job. It was too late when he flunked

out of college. It was too late the day he stepped foot into this miserable city.

Ralph slipped the loaded cylinder back into the revolver. He took the gun and slid the barrel into his mouth,

trying not to gag on the oily, metallic taste.

Ralph pulled back the hammer and closed his eyes. He wormed his finger around the trigger. Let it end…

WHOOM!

All Ralph could see was darkness. Darkness here, darkness there, darkness everywhere.

So this is death…Ralph thought. To tell the truth, He was a little disappointed. This never ending expanse of

darkness was the afterlife? C'mon! Where were the pearly gates and Saint Peter? Were was the lake of fire

and the guy with a pitchfork?

Ralph became aware of a strange, oily taste. He felt a strange pressure in his gluteus. It was if he was sitting

down on something hard and cold.

Wait a minute.

Ralph slowly opened his eyes. He was still sitting on the park bench with the gun in his mouth. The

hammer was still cocked.

Ralph took the gun out of his mouth, the polished nickel wet with saliva. His curiosity began to overrule his

depression. There were only two possible explanations. Either the afterlife looked a lot like the City Park, or

he was still alive. Ralph was betting on the latter.

Ralph uncocked the hammer and stuffed the gun back into his pocket. If he hadn't fired the gun, then what

was that…

"Ohhhhh…."

Ralph froze. What was that?

"Ohhhhh…."

Ralph looked around. There, over by one of the streetlights. There was some kind of strange,

purplish lump.

Ralph slowly walked over to the light. Whatever the object was, it hadn't been there when he arrived. If it

wasn't responsible for that explosion then he'd eat his hat.

The object stirred slightly. "ohhhh…" it moaned, its voice surprisingly feminine.

Good God it's alive! Ralph ran over to the creature's side. His jaw dropped.

"What. The. Hell?"

The creature looked something like a small horse. Emphasis on something. For one thing, its coat was a

light purple, while its mane and tail were dark blue. Its body had a puffed-out, sort of marshmallowy

appearance, like that of a stuffed teddy bear. Its oversized head was only vaguely horse-like, with a

ridiculously blunt muzzle, large, spade-like ears, and eyes the size of grapefruits. To top it all off, the

creature had a small, icicle-like horn growing out of its forehead.

All in all, it was surprisingly…cute.

Ralph knelt down for a better look. There was something weird about the creature's appearance. Its body

had a sort of flat, cartoonish look to it, more like a drawing than a living creature., and if he squinted, Ralph

swore he could see a faint purplish outline.

Ralph slowly put a hand on the creature; to his surprise it was rather soft, almost silky. He could

feel a faint heartbeat. It's still alive! Ralph scanned the park. Payphone payphone where the hell is a

payphone? As bizarre as the creature was, he couldn't just let it lie here. It was bitter cold out; even with its

coat, the creature wouldn't last long out here. Certainly not in the shape it was in.

Ralph spotted a payphone on the other side of the park. He raced over to the phone like a man running a

marathon. He lifted the receiver and dug through his pocket; if he could call animal control they might be

able to…

"Dammit!" Ralph cussed. Ralph you idiot! He'd forgotten just how much the gun had cost. Both

of his pockets were empty.

With a curse, Ralph raced back to the creatures' side. Now what? The nearest animal shelter was on the

other side of the city; same with the hospital. There was no way he could reach them in time.

Ralph took the gun out of his pocket. He pressed the little revolver against the base of the creature's skull. If

he couldn't help the creature, he could at least put it out of its misery.

The hammer cocked with a sharp click. C'mon Ralph, do it. It would be quick and painless, the creature

wouldn't feel a thing.

Ralph wrapped his finger around the trigger. His hand trembled. He could do this; he could do this. He

could do this…

He uncocked the hammer. Tears rolled down his cheeks in tiny rivulets. He couldn't do it. Try as he might,

he couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger.

Ralph unloaded the gun and threw it into a nearby garbage can. He took off his coat and wrapped it around

the creature. He slid his arms under the arms under the creature's body and

Slowly, gingerly, lifted it

This is probably going to go down as the dumbest thing I've ever done. Ralph thought. And you know

what? I don't care.

Ralph cradled the creature in his arms like an oversized, deformed child. He then ran towards home as quickly as

he could. He doubted he could do much to help the creature- it probably wouldn't survive the night.

But at least he could make it comfortable.