“Hi, Matthew.”

Ugh. I hope he doesn’t start a big conversation. I just thought it’d be weird if I didn’t say anything. We’ve been standing in line for awhile nervously glancing at each other.

“Hey, George. How are you?”

Why is he talking to me? We’ve been standing in line for fifteen minutes without a word. That’s weird.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. How’s the family?”

God… maybe if I sip my coffee and act like I’m not interested he’ll drop the conversation.

“They’re okay. Took Maddie to the park yesterday. Howler stayed in front of his controllers all night. Few friends over.”

Does he want me to invite him to a table? I don’t have the time… but I don’t wanna raise suspicion…

“That’s cool. Jackz wanted to come over. I told him you were probably busy.”

What? What do I say? Do I sound weird? Is is a little creepy?

“Want to take a seat?”


“Oh. No. I have work.”


“That’s fine.”

Close one…

“Okay. Well. I’ll see you around.”

Thank God…

Matthew smiles shakily and exits the café. He walks up three floors to an apartment he’s rented.

George watches until Matthew disappears, then bolts across the street to his apartment, which he has rented across from Matthew. He goes to the window and peeks. The curtains swing shut.

Matthew jerks away from the window, and ducks. He takes his gun’s scope and zooms into George’s apartment window.

George brings his gun up through the window. He aims for Matthew’s head.

“A gun?”

Matthew pulls away, his finger on the trigger.

“What? Is that-“

George glares through the scope. Sure enough, across the way there’s Matthew’s own barrel poking from the window.









The street goes quiet, pedestrians ducking in the alleys. Their chins just over the walls edge. In the apartment complex lay two friends over their window sills, guns drooping from their limp arms.

It seems the job has been done.

Comments 12