Cosma Empire

The drunken sergeant on Purple Alfalfa Town echoed the old wife’s impatient noise and the sound of the pot. He opened his sleepy eyes, reached out and grabbed the corner of the curtain, and the sky outside the house was still dark. He didn’t know if it was still not bright in the morning, or there was some time in the night.

When the throat was dry, it was like something was tearing his scorpion. He snorted twice uncomfortably, and sat up from the bed and put on his slippers. I opened a dim bedside lamp and looked down at the clock on the bedside table. It is now at 12 o’clock in the evening. After watching it for more than twenty seconds, he took the clock and tightened the clock for it. The clock ticking again and again fulfilled his duties.

Thirsty, headache, this is the drawbacks of cheap private wine, he stood up with his hands on the bed, went to the table and picked up the cup and looked up, but did not pour even a drop of water. There was a violent thing in his gray scorpion spreading, and the old wife’s jealousy and dissatisfaction complained that his head hurts more, and the sound of the pot-and-pot collision was simply unbearable. He gasped and rushed out of the bedroom with a shotgun hanging across the wall of the bed.

It was not an ornament, but the owner of the room treated the two shotguns as decorations.

kitchen?

No!

WC?

No!

When the sheriff walked to the living room, he saw a silhouette standing in the corner. He pulled the trigger with the slightest hesitation. The bullet whirled and flew out from the muzzle, which also led to a small piece of white fog. . With a bang, something was shattered, and the silhouette slowly slipped against the wall and fell to the floor. The shackles and complaints in the ear disappeared in a flash, and the whole person seemed to return to calm.

The sheriff swayed over and subconsciously said something incomprehensible. He walked down to the front of the silhouette and touched the floor that was torn by the bullets, alerting him to other places.

“I will find you!”, the sheriff coughed, “I swear!”

He went to the kitchen, filled the faucet and unscrewed the switch. A faint smell of water poured into his mouth. He sipped and greedily sucked until he was full, and then went back to the bedroom with a foul-mouthed I once again threw myself into the bed and fell into a drowsy state.

The moonlight came in through the window. On the cupboard in the living room, a black and white photo frame had a woman who looked very gentle and smiled at all the people who looked towards her.

Early the next morning, the curtains that he had opened in the middle of the night could not block the warmth of the sun. In the dazzling rays of light, the sheriff raised his hand to block the sun and slowly wake up. His brain was blank, he glanced at the shotgun in his hand and turned and hung it on the bed.

He has a very serious illness, but only a few people know that many people think that he is an alcoholic drunk and will never wake up. But only those who know him know that he just uses alcohol as a medicine.

He rubbed his face, his cheeks were sore on his cheeks, and expressionless went to the mirror in the closet, very carefully replaced with a police uniform that represented justice and justice, wearing a badge and facing the mirror. After paying a very standard gift, I left the bedroom and left home.

Before leaving home, he had not forgotten to take a bottle of private wine from the table. It was the kind that the family brewed. The degree was a little higher than the ordinary low-alcohol, and it was lower than those of the big factories. .

The rude bite open the lid and poured a big mouth. When he was ready to go out, he was squeezed back.

“Hey, who is this, Mr. Cosma!”, the sheriff’s emphasis is somewhat high, and the surprise in his eyes flashed away, replaced by a deep defense.

Mr. Cosma’s face is not as ridiculous as the artist’s sculptures, and even the slight trembling has not happened. He took off his own round hat and placed it on the hanger. After patrolling the room, he shook his head and walked to the dirty rattan chair in the living room. He turned everything to the ground and then sat. Go up.

“What are you doing here?” The sheriff put the wine back on the table and sat face-to-face with Mr. Cosma. “Are you forgetting the agreement between us, if it is not at the juncture of life-and-death choices, None of us will take the initiative to contact others!”

It’s incredible that Mr. Cosma was shrugged, but what’s even more incredible is that he shouted a name that didn’t exist in the town, “Walter…”

“Shut up, that’s not my name!”, the sergeant’s anger has already made an offensive posture. After seeing Mr. Cosma’s calm eyes, the whole person has become stiff and sat back. “No. , I am not Walter, no such person, please call my name ‘John Johnson’, Mr. Cosma!”

Mr. Cosma escaped a delicate metal box from his pocket and took two cigarettes, one on his mouth and the other on “Johnson.” He took out a beautiful sterling silver lighter, lit a cigarette for himself, and then looked at Johnson with a slight chin. If it is a stranger, it may be irritated by Mr. Cosma’s attitude at this time, at least not too happy. But Johnson knows that this is a way for Mr. Cosma to express his vanity.

From a few decades ago, he was like this, showing off everything he had in this annoying way!

“I know that you have a good son, you know it in the whole town, but what about it?”, John took the cigarette lighter from Mr. Cosma’s hand and lit it for himself, sook a deep breath, playing with the pure hand Silver lighter, “This has nothing to do with me. Listen, I don’t want to get into trouble, but I don’t want to get caught up in trouble, understand?”

Mr. Cosma spit a faint smog, played a ash, and the white ash of the snow fell on the ground. After the impact, it split into several petals, and the wind from the door was blown away. He said calmly and indifferently as before: “We are friends!”

When Mr. Cosma said this, John Sergeant’s body shook abruptly. This sentence once became a nightmare for people, and often those who heard this sentence could not sleep peacefully. But it is obvious that today he is not listening to this sentence, the voice, as a party of “justice”.

There was a struggle in his eyes, and the muscles on the gang also shook. The sweat ran down against his hair. His lips were still unable to contain cigarettes, and half of the cigarettes slipped gently on the ground.

“What do you want me to do?”