Broken Rainbows

Short Fiction

“Wait a minute,” the woman holding the nine-millimeter said. “You know this guy?”

Sean looked at me and said, “Yeah.”

The woman holstered the pistol and shifted her pint glass to her right hand.

The yard sloped downhill from the house. The porch where they were standing was about ten feet above the bench I was sitting on. “I didn’t say or do anything. She …