Rust red

Reynold Harland. You'd never notice him. Like a janitor in a grocery store he just blended in. Nothing about him stood out. 5' 8, 170 pounds, and no facial hair or any real identifying characteristics. Brown eyes and short brown hair. Even tempered and very punctual. Plain, like off brand shoes. His real worth lied in his work. He traveled alot. His is a skilled craft. He's been doing this for years. It was always strictly bussiness for him. However, when he was on the clock his methodical nature took over. He's very detailed oriented. When he had a job to do he wanted it don't right and as efficiently as possible. He knew the contract. Daily routines he knew by heart. Just another day at the office. He opened the bathroom door. Black latex gloves gripping his strong hands. He reached into his coat. Removed a silenced 9mm. It was at this point I felt the worse end of a gun at the back of my head. Today just got a whole lot worse.

Author's Note

Writing exercise. Ignore mistakes

Reviews

[Delmar Cooper]

Okay you had your exercise. Did you break a good healthy sweat? I doubt it, but still... Harland works, the portrait of Harland I mean. And, besides the visual you did a good implication of the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. A reader with two remaining gray cells knows A) there's more here than meets the eye and B) some fairly bad s**t is about to go down. After that, it's just a typing exercise.