‘Gun.’ he said flatly. ‘I don’t have one.’ ‘In your bags.’ He reached and yes, a gun, holster. No idea what to do, or how to use it. ‘...ake a pill.’ popped in his head. He reached in his pocket, took one, and popped it in his mouth. He strapped on the holster, turned, waiting. He saw the thin man reach, the gun at his own side appeared and fired. The thin man never cleared his holster, like magic, a hole appeared in his forehead. Men were running, reaching for him. Black. He stood for a moment. Vanessa Benson leaned her back up against the cistern just behind her and pushed her hips forwards just a fraction so those watching could see more clearly the flow of liquid that was about to gush forth from her loins. Vanessa then closed her eyes as she felt her own urethra press forward just down below her clitoris. This autonomic action forced apart her labia minora to allow for a greater ease of egress of the urinal flow and with less obstruction. Vanessa then felt the walls of her bladder. More

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