One Last Job
A man blinks open his eyes and rubs the sand out of them. He carefully crawls out of bed and looks back at the bed, at the woman that was lying on the other side of the bed. He looks at her sleeping form, the outline of her face visible through the dim light coming from outside the window. He breathes in and slowly exhales, memories the two had together flooding into his mind.
He watches the slow rising and falling of her chest, fondly recalling the last few nights the two had spent together in the bed. He resists the urge to reach over and caress her face, knowing that it would probably wake her. Soundlessly, he moves from the bed to the closet. He starts getting himself dressed, careful not to waken her.
Fully clad in black, he moves to the dresser drawer and opens it up. He stares at the 9 mm within its shoulder holster, knowing he has to do this, even though he wants nothing more than to be back in bed sleeping, feeling his womans warmth. He picks the gun and holster up, placing it around his arms. He goes back into the closet and grabs a black coat, a light weight coat that offered minimum protection but was able to hide the gun.
He silently closes the closet door and looks back at the bed. He knows he would be back, but certainly not tonight. He returns to the dresser drawer and pulls out a folded piece of paper and places it on top of the dresser before closing the drawer. He heads to the door and looks over his shoulder at his love. Ill make it back, I swear. Its just one last job before I quit. Ill be all right, Ill return to you. No one could ever love me half as good as you, so try to be strong while Im gone. Goodbye for now. He opens the door and exits, silently closing the door behind him. He walks into the street and continues, until he disappears in the light fog that had settled over the city.
(This was written based on Cold's "When Angels Fly Away" on their A Different Kind of Pain CD. Some of the words he says is used from the lyrics. I don't own Cold, though that would be kick ass, nor do I have any copyright stuff. Even so, steal from me and I will hunt you down and stick a harpoon up your ass then launch it further up :) Have a nice day.)
He watches the slow rising and falling of her chest, fondly recalling the last few nights the two had spent together in the bed. He resists the urge to reach over and caress her face, knowing that it would probably wake her. Soundlessly, he moves from the bed to the closet. He starts getting himself dressed, careful not to waken her.
Fully clad in black, he moves to the dresser drawer and opens it up. He stares at the 9 mm within its shoulder holster, knowing he has to do this, even though he wants nothing more than to be back in bed sleeping, feeling his womans warmth. He picks the gun and holster up, placing it around his arms. He goes back into the closet and grabs a black coat, a light weight coat that offered minimum protection but was able to hide the gun.
He silently closes the closet door and looks back at the bed. He knows he would be back, but certainly not tonight. He returns to the dresser drawer and pulls out a folded piece of paper and places it on top of the dresser before closing the drawer. He heads to the door and looks over his shoulder at his love. Ill make it back, I swear. Its just one last job before I quit. Ill be all right, Ill return to you. No one could ever love me half as good as you, so try to be strong while Im gone. Goodbye for now. He opens the door and exits, silently closing the door behind him. He walks into the street and continues, until he disappears in the light fog that had settled over the city.
(This was written based on Cold's "When Angels Fly Away" on their A Different Kind of Pain CD. Some of the words he says is used from the lyrics. I don't own Cold, though that would be kick ass, nor do I have any copyright stuff. Even so, steal from me and I will hunt you down and stick a harpoon up your ass then launch it further up :) Have a nice day.)
posted by Jenos Ide at 3:10 PM
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