A Little Bullet from a Pretty Blue Gun

Suddenly, Josh remembered the gunshot. He was five minutes into his story about where everything had first started going wrong, the day in the first grade at a Catholic elementary school where Josh was caught running through the halls in just his underwear and socks, having stripped down on either a dare from friends, or as an order from the class bullies who threatened to do something worse to him.

Josh's parents would later have a drunken epiphany a few months later, which meant that Josh was withdrawn from the Catholic school and enrolled in a public elementary school before he started the second grade.

At the time of the shot, Josh simply assumed that the noise was a car backfiring outside, and he kept right on talking for the next 55 minutes, taking no notice that the shrink was dead in his chair, with at least 50 percent of his head getting sprayed across the floor and wall.

Finally, Josh says something. "Geez, was it something I said? Was it the underwear story, or the time in the fifth grade when I crapped in Mr. Oldham's trash can to win a bet?"

1. Josh racks his brain to figure out what happened.
2. Or did Josh actually kill the shrink five minutes into the session.
3. "Does this mean that the first session is free?" Josh asks the receptionist.

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