Inspiration Monday on the Bekindrewrite blog, 13 February 2012. There’s a whole host of stuff to choose from, but what inspired me this week was the phrase; Can’t see past my gun. So here is my interpretation …
I’ve been here for two days. It was dark when I arrived, I found a good spot in the ditch and got hunkered down before dawn.
The first day wasn’t too bad, the waiting is the worst. When nothing happens for hours, boredom sets and, if you are not careful, you start imagining things; movements, sounds. Even the bugs crawling past your face become interesting.
Laying so still makes your muscles ache and your joints grow stiff. The sun was pretty hot for a couple of hours after noon, but all this clothing kept my skin from burning. The cool of the evening shadows was wonderful, for a while, but soon the temperature dropped to a chill.
When darkness fell I managed to move each joint and muscle in turn, just enough to ease those aches. I needed to sleep as I knew today would be important, it is the reason I am here. Sleep was intermittent. The bugs and the aches made sure I didn’t doze too long.
Water and rations before dawn have to sustain me. Today my eyes and ears are tuned acutely to the road and buildings stretched out in front of me. There is activity, a good sign. The morning sun is shining from behind my left shoulder, an ideal place. But it won’t stay there long. It will soon be zero hour, the car must be on time.
Yes! Here it is. The black limousine is flanked by a couple of SUVs. They have stopped right outside the main entrance, perfect. Half a dozen black suits spill out of the SUVs and scour the street for signs of … anything they don’t like really. They’re satisfied it’s safe, The Man is out of the limo and stretching his arms. He’s had a long trip.
I ease the ‘scope in front of my right eye, now I can almost read the time on his expensive watch. The cross hairs are centred on the back of his head … squeeze gently. The flash eliminator does its job, just a gentle pop as the 7.62mm round makes its way to the target.
My work is done.
(c) 2012, K Patrick Moody