ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
Author of MURDER ON THE WATERFRONT, Read a review from OVER MY DEAD BODY: http://www.overmydeadbody.com/ladymarg.htm Order now from Amazon.com http://countess.notlong.com Please visit my website: http://www.coganbooks.net
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (12) A Rainy Night In Baghdad (Short Stories) This rain is the piss of Satan! [812 words] Jubilee, A Novel (Novels) Paris is in flames and the hungry guillotine waits . . . [4,571 words] Life, Death, And A Guitar (Short Stories) Life can turn on a dime and sometimes the guitar doesn't make it. [480 words] [Crime] Murder On The Waterfront (Novels) Lady Margaret is an artist and amateur sleuth, Monahan is a hardboiled detective. Together they solve a murder with international implications. [2,358 words] Nanotech (Short Stories) Alien technology is not for everyone! [971 words] Path To The Top Of The M Ountain (Short Stories) You never know who is walking beside you. [500 words] Pick A Pocket Of Sunshine (Short Stories) What a beautiful day for petty crime! [379 words] She Dances Down By The River (Short Stories) Danger in the firelight. [453 words] The Honor Of A Lady (Short Stories) Steel is drawn when the honor of a lady is besmirched. [321 words] [Humor] The King's Best Soldier (Short Stories) Beric races for home, haunted by a Dakhanni demon. [1,270 words] The Stone Of Immortality (Short Stories) Do you want to live forever? [1,145 words] Wicked They Come (Short Stories) What is making that darned noise? [2,930 words] [Science Fiction]
The Assassin Susan Brassfield Cogan
He lounged there in the shadows in his sharkskin suit and dark gray fedora. His nose and mouth were briefly lit by a struck match touched to a cigarette. A thin cruel mouth, hooked nose. He was also thin and his hands trembled a little. Did a shred of conscience trouble him?
The gun hung heavy in the pocket of his coat. He had a holster under his arm but he wanted to get to the gun fast when the moment struck. He waited patiently. He did not know how long he had stood there. Hours for sure. About midnight, it rained a little. He may not have noticed. When the church bells down the block tolled two a.m., fog began to roll in. This was his perfect time, his perfect place. This would be his chance. When all was done, when the bright deadly moment was past, he could fade into the shadows and the fog and be gone like a wisp of nothing, taking a man's life with him.
The streets were touched with a hint of the coming winter. Leaves skittered in the gutter, disturbed by the unnamed things that traveled there. He was one of them, spiritual kin. He listened to their faint chatter and thought his own dark thoughts, his hands trembling a little with neither excitement nor fear. He meditated on the clarity of the moment and perhaps there was a thread of regret, of remorse, but perhaps not.
Then he heard it. Footsteps. He'd heard footsteps earlier and watched with cold eyes as the wrong man hurried by, turning up his collar against the cold of the wind and the eyes peering out of the dark. For a long time, though, the street had been empty even of cars. That's why this spot, this perfect spot, was chosen. So when death came it would be lonely, swift and silent. So it would go unremarked until the street sweepers came in the morning, sleepy from a night of dreaming about better things and found the empty husk ready for the grave.
The footsteps approached and the man who owned them felt, maybe, the chill of the dark and the menace in the shadow. Perhaps he felt the mist of the fog enclose him and knew that shadow or this one would be the last he'd ever see. His eyes darted into every dark doorway looking for the reaper who would gather him up in an icy embrace. Looking for the bright spark, the bark of the bullet, the bite of death and the draining away of warm life, of blood and hope and tomorrow.
READER'S REVIEWS (3) DISCLAIMER: STORYMANIA DOES NOT PROVIDE AND IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR REVIEWS. ALL REVIEWS ARE PROVIDED BY NON-ASSOCIATED VISITORS, REGARDLESS OF THE WAY THEY CALL THEMSELVES.
"I liked it, but, for me it didnt really end... But i liked it anyway." -- Josh / Axey.
"sorry to dissagree with you Josh but i liked the way that it ended, anyway keep writing, peace." -- Hugh.
"Aha! I feel that this is what you entered for your GCSEs? I did the same piece and got A*. I liked this, although it leaves little to the imagination... Johnny." -- Johnny.
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