Short Three: Don't Stop Believing

The icy rain fell like glowing embers before the low sun and I cupped my hand around my cigarette to stop its death. I started the boom-box. Journey’s Don’t stop believing echoed through the rain. My target opened her front door. She moved forth with nervous steps, closer and closer to me. I readied my pistol, taking care not to let her see it. She called over to me, “I love this song!”
“Who doesn’t!” I called back, raising my pistol and firing twice. Once into heart Journey loving heart and once in her head.
“I hate god damn Journey.”