An ailing assassin on a special assignment watches the target, I know Hell awaits me, God is slumbering, I watched the target all night, all that morning, I know the routine and wooden bench of depression where this will end, as if it were my own.
I've already dispatched the family, even the dog. I watched the waves on the lake, each droplet of dew on each blade of grass, as the target walked out to look at the red, sandy shoreline on a crisp November's morning for the last time, a lake of lilacs I know so well, no one sees me.
Gulls were wheeling above, a frog calling down to its mate, a bass jumped and made a splash, my dead eyes never waver, never blink.
I watched closely, I watched for so long, there is no boat traffic, a mechanical approach, I've sent thousands to the grave.
I watched a blue bird bathe, I watched the burnt orange flowers bloom for the last time and I know that they too must die, I put my hand to my mouth, squelching a yawn, this is a morning like all the others, God sees me, God will judge me, Hell awaits me.
I crept behind the target, walking without breath, an elegant swan among the demons that live inside of me, this is my lake I love so well, this is exactly how I've imagined it for years, God is slowly waking, God is tranquil, God is calming, the brittle leaves are stillborn, a frozen still life painting splotched and dotted with the angelic dreams of spiders, the perfumed and silvering clouds passing above, a soft barrel to the head, a silent shot, screaming with no sound.