The Rolling Stone & Wicked Annabelle, Chapter 2
Nothing ain't Free The Rolling Stone left the convenient store with two pistols, two rounds for each, a sawed-off shotgun from behind the Indian’s counter and all the buckshot he could fit in his pockets. His prospects were looking up. He stumbled into an alley and rested for a moment. He could feel immortality flowing through his veins; he let it slowly take its course. He was feeling stronger now, less bruised and dashed. The Rolling Stone was healing. He’d made a pact many years ago, that was when he was young. That was when he was rich. That was when he was arrogant. He had everything and wanted more. He had want for naught, but coveted. He lived, but was dying and that bothered him. He wanted to live forever, to want for nothing. To have had everything, to have experienced all. To have knowledge of everything that was, is and is to be. His arrogance and gluttony knew no bounds. Thus naturally, he jumped at the idea of immortality, “Yes. It’s what I want. Give it to me.” “You d