One Hundred One word story

Is it even a story? Perhaps. 

The gun lies on the nightstand. Sounding a cold clack as it dropped onto the dulling varnish, a passing sigh sidled out from me. A reverberated fear, an echo in thought of disemboweled confidences. With my head resting on the pillow, my hands crossed against my chest and my shoes unceasing to be laced to my feet, I look up. A pale yellow light casts its shadows across textured ceiling. I see the stars scattered amongst a sky. Constellations. A comet trails through infinity and vanishes without a trace. A car pulls into a space outside. I close my eyes, Tonight.