Tuesday, 21 July 2015


                                                                                          Photo prompt © Sandra Crook

He had planned everything to perfection. After shooting her boyfriend he would vanish for some time before trying to win her.
As they walked, leisurely, down the street he looked at them from his hideout. He did not waver, even for a moment. He pressed the trigger; but it was she who stumbled. Even before he could realize what had happened she was dead.
He stood frozen and defeated.
Thirty years later he came back to his hideout but he was scared to look at the place where she had fallen.
Even now he was unsure of what had happened.
 A post for Friday Fictioneers on a photo prompt

Word count 100