Nothing Personal

Written for the Daily Flash Fiction Challenge with a word limit of 300.

The prompts: This story must contain the words: office, pillow and brush

Nothing Personal

He let out an audible sigh as his head hit the pillow. It had been a long day and he still had several more appointments to keep.

Still, it felt good to lie down on a quality bed.

He looked over at the lump in the blankets next to him. That was Bill Graham; or at least it was.

The autopsy would list cause of death as a heart attack.

Sorry Bill, it’s nothing personal, he thought, getting up from the bed.

A few minutes later, he was out and about.

He loved it in New York and was forever thankful for the assignment. There was certainly no shortage of work.

As he strutted down the brightly lit walkway of a main street, people stood aside. He was clearly a dude to be avoided. He paused in front of a store window to admire himself. He brushed his long black hair back with his fingers and then, turned and continued on his way.

He came upon a line of people outside of a popular nightclub. This was the place. He scanned the faces. He knew their time would come; just not right now.

Without turning to the street, he lifted an arm and a cab pulled up.

He turned slowly and looked at the driver. That was the guy.

Climbing in the back seat, he made himself comfortable and said only, “Go north for two miles.”

They drove in silence. The driver could sense trouble and reached under his seat to make sure his gun was readily available. It was.

“Hey buddy, how about telling me where you’re going?”

“To my office,” the passenger hissed.

“Where is that?”

Death reached over and tapped the man’s shoulder and said, “For the moment, in the back of a New York taxi cab.”

Word count 300