The SniperThere he stood, there his target stood - the man he was sent to “Terminate.” It had taken him all afternoon to procure his position. The sniper had only a small window of opportunity left as the sun sank below the forlorn and blood soaked horizon. The sky was deep crimson as if in sympathetic gesture to its surroundings.The Sniper
He lay down upon the precipice making not a sound. He rested his rifle on the edge of the crag and gradually flicked the safety off. He breathed slowly and a silky smoothness laid to rest all his qualms. His muscles relaxed and his eyes sharpened. His heart made only the slightest of movement. He was r
Well, well, well...
--
Illusion is the first of pleasures.
Oscar Wilde
Previous PageNext Page