My father made me promise him in front of both our wives not to sell the cache of guns I would inherit from him. He’d just been diagnosed with prostate cancer. “At least don’t sell them immediately,” he said. “They’re an investment.” He said one day, just maybe, I might regret not having an arsenal with which to defend myself. Then the waiter came to take our order.

Originally published Winter 2022 in Salt Hill Journal, Issue 47.

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