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"The Assassin

It is a cold, dark night, the lightening lit up the sky, she looks up never speaking, always alert.
She is alone, a shadow on London Bridge, the sky once again lit up with a crash of thunder. The mist is coming in but she still stands there ........ forever watching, forever waiting.
She begins to walk down the bridge, unnerved by the storm. The rain begins to fall, getting harder and harder but she still continues to walk on, her mind only on the prize. A boat comes into veiw and she stops where she can clearly see the yacht, brightly lit up and decorated ............... it was a boat party.
A red laguar turns up, it is a convertable with a slightly deflated looking tyre. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, opens her eyes and then raises her head. She moves closer to the rail and picks up her rifle.
She looks through the scope and surveys her victim, blond hair, blue eyes, sort of rugged and dodgy looking. This was him ...... the man she had been expecting for the past few hours, her heart is pounding, it is becoming more noticable so she takes some special medicine to keep her hands steady, then without hesitation she looks up at him and pulls the trigger.

She looks at the screaming crowd below but watches with little interest, then she sighs and packs up her rifle or any other bit of evidence that is left remaining cold and unfeeling.
She does not feel sad, sick or guilty knowing she had stolen life from another man, to her he was just a meal ticket.
She pauses watching again at the drama below then walks back into the darkness from which she came"