Just Lather, That’s All

Just Lather, That’s All

Interior Monologue of Captain Torres.

I don’t know what to think of this barber, or what he will do. He is a rebel, or so my men say. I wonder what he is going through his head. Is he thinking about killing me? His razor is dangerously sharp. I saw him rubbing it against the strop as I entered. One swift, clean stroke and they would be rid of me forever. He has seen what I’ve done to the other rebels. Does he fear me? I have the power to take his life on the smallest whim. He could kill me right this moment, make the final move for his cause.

Maybe I should kill him now, act before he makes the fatal slice. I could reach for my gun…pull the trigger. With the side he’s chosen, he’ll end up dead at the end of a noose eventually anyways. After all, he is just another rebel, like the ones I hanged at the schoolhouse. He deserves to die… doesn’t he?

He holds my life on the edge of his razor blade; I who have taken the lives of so many dear to his cause. I who stand for everything he despises. Yet he hasn’t killed me yet, hasn’t harmed a hair on my head. Instead, he wipes my face clean and puts away his razor, his job finished. I pause before I stand up. Should I kill him or let him live? Should I shoot him now, or just leave?

My jaw feels smooth beneath my hand. He’s done his job well. The weight of the gun is astounding as I slip it back into its holster. My hand hovers over the butt of the pistol, but never takes it out. Even though I’ve killed so many times, its harder this time. Maybe it’s because he’s just an ordinary man, fighting for what he believes in. Or maybe it’s the heat of the afternoon. I don’t know. I think I’ll just walk out the door.

Interior Monologue of Captain Torres

By: Patrice Orsini

Mrs. Chosen

ENG 2D1

February 13, 2007