Friday, 31 May 2013

Response 3: I'm being followed


Every evening I wear the same attire, a grey non-descript uniform blending into the night, camouflaged from the paranoid yet justified glances of my prey.

My targets are selected at random by a faceless agency not prejudiced by colour, creed or age.

I slip into the night, cutting through the masses like a hot knife through butter, scanning the crowd for the latest unfortunate incumbent of my services.

The details in the communique were explicit in terms of where I would expect to encounter my target, this information provided is always correct…………………………..

Something is not right, I look behind me, I see a man in the same grey non- descript uniform, he passes quickly, performing his work with surgical precision, a red bloom appears immediately, I fall to floor, my life ebbing away.

They don’t offer you a gold carriage clock in my line of work, retirement is always bereavement!

1 comment:

  1. Ah the occupational hazard of the humble hit man. Loved this take on the topic. This week's WINNER!

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