him

im a dreamer...
I can sit down and smile, thinking of my future...
with some man, and i can see his gentle smile.
I can smell our house...I can hear our children...I can hear, also, the gentle crash of the waves of the ocean outside our home.

We sit on the porch at night, me and my man, and we stare out. We're happy...I can feel it. He's nameless, he's faceless...but he's there. He keeps telling me, in my dreams, that everything will be okay. That life will be fine for me.
Im so heartbroken. every relationship I've ever had has ended in tragedy that I've been forced to get over...
But he's there. Everytime I shut my eyes. To hold my hands, and chuckle at how I worry. "Dont" He tells me. "You will find me."

I feel so alone. I feel Im standing in the middle of a group of grey people, the only one with color, searching and searching for the only other person outside the grey. The only one who doesn't just glance at me and look away.
Yet he's there. Nameless, faceless, but so close...
I'm young, people tell me, and tell me not to worry.

This I simply cannot do. I've seen the one I shall spend the rest of my life with. and he's held my hand...and I dont even know his name.

It could be anyone. Any man I see. Any gentle smile I recieve. Except, I'll know. Or at least, he told me, that I'll know when it happens.

I can't wait anymore...I want him now.
I wander through my blissful dreams, filled with my future, and come back to my past with a depression.
He sits by me, his head on my shoulder, whispering in my ear, just what I want to hear. But when I turn...no one's there.

I can't help...but wish his presence so badly...

the thril of the kill....

the breeze was just right...the temperature outside was just a bit too hot, but the breeze made him breathe easier. He had to meet her in ten minutes. He would make it. He had to.
Breathe now, mark...breathe it out...
He peered into the scope and saw his target sitting down to enjoy the game he had attended. The fat greed of his personality spilled out in his lusty smile towards a female minor nearby. Mark scowled and steadied himself. Readjusted his body on the cement. The breeze was gone.
Dont panic, you idiot, relax...
His suit was hot and stuck to his cut body. Sweat dripped from his chin. One eye shut. His left hand shook slightly while shivers ran up and down his legs. A tremble in his lower back. A skip in his heart beat...
But his right hand was deadly still. His index finger pulled down and one loud shot later the fat man's chest was penetrated and he fell over dead. No one even noticed it. Those around him thought he had merely fainted. Mark put the rifle away and ran over to the sight he was to wait. He removed his gloves and placed a "lakers" hat on over his sweaty head. The breeze was back... He stood still, head tilted up, feeling the cool air almost dry him.
He was the best there was. Men called from all different countries for his skill. His dead-on exactness. He never missed a target. He never screwed it up. He glanced at his watch.
The damn helicopter better not make me late for my date...

A shortened excerpt from my new book. Like??