The old lady dropped her purse, spilling it's contents all over the floor.

I rushed ahead to help her stopping short when I saw a gun.

I did look at her,she did look at me.

The air filled with oxygen and apparels.

Not a mexican standoff I could bid.

Oye !, a wild one if there's any.

She had the gun hanging on the wall behind her.

Her dog started to spin around then.

He was going to unload like she did
to her gun I knew.

Her eyes set making faces and poses
which only Sherlock was the qualified
to decode the art.

Then I realized I have a German like her's.

Such happy moments had made my day,
so did her work that I pulled,
the curtain down and went away
with Holmes to wasteland.

On my mind,
I kept on thinking,
what the gun would be doing,
in front of the mirror with it's real self.

© Imlyt

#WritcoStoryPrompt7