The Laughter in the Chat

His father stood in the doorway for a long time before speaking. “If you’re going to keep doing this,” he said, “don’t try to live off one gunfight.” Chase looked up. It wasn’t rejection. It was a warning. If he wanted to keep going, he would have to learn how to win matches, not just aim battles. He wrote the timing of that mistake down line by line. Not to defend himself. To make sure that when he came back, the laughter would have nowhere left to stand.