A day in the life of a hit man.
|Wednesday was an ordinary day. Or at least as ordinary as a Wednesday could be for a hired gun. Conrad woke to the sound of light snoring. In bed beside him, Daisy's leg was hooked around his thigh, and her long, dark hair covered her pillow.
He met Daisy last month and had been drunk on her ever since. Daisy filled his time with good wine and good food and laughter, the latter of which had been missing for quite some time. She was wonderful. Conrad was tempted to stay in bed all morning just so he could watch her sleep. Today, however, he could not afford to dawdle, so he dressed himself in a crisp linen suit, slurped down a cup of black coffee, and dashed out the door into the California sunlight.
He knew his target today was a woman, but not much else. Just where and when. The man who hired him had said the details were unimportant. Conrad was to identify her by her red hat. He found a secluded spot with easy access to the target's location and waited for her to arrive. He took the shot as soon as she rounded the corner.
Conrad watched through the rifle sight as she fell, wanting to verify the kill. This job required accuracy. He caught a glimpse of brown hair, and his heart fluttered. Leaving his gear in place, Conrad leaped down from the stand of rocks he was hiding in and sprinted toward his victim. It was her. Conrad stared at the crumpled note still clutched in Daisy's hand.
Meet me in half an hour. Drell Park, near the bird baths. Wear that hat I got you.
Tears threatened to spill from his glassy eyes, but he refused to let them fall. Work was waiting.
Word Count: 300