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Image for the poem Currently untitled [Part one]

Currently untitled [Part one]

Rain falls heavily on the buildings surrounding me
I leave the lights off, gazing at the large canvas of city lights
It's night, but in a city that never sleeps, shadows run deep
Only within them is where you'll find true darkness
 
The sound is mesmerizing, splashing off the fire escape
Coating my windows with thousands of dazzling jewels
I lean against my wall, veiled in shadow
Watching the busy streets below me, filled with people up late
 
My gaze flickers to the soft digital glow of 1:13 am on my wrist
Nearly time to go, I push myself away from the wall
Pulling a charcoal grey long-sleeved shirt then grabbing worn boots  
I lace them up in the dark to the sound of the rain and traffic
 
I put on my jacket, old but still warm, some form of cheap leather
Last thing I do before I leave is grab my gun
matte black, perfect for blending obscurely into the foggy night
and a long serrated combat knife, in the same muted shade
 
The grimy yellowed lights flicker in the stairwell as I walk down
Making sure my weapons are concealed in my jacket
I make it to the streets, slipping out into the sea of people
rain pelting me and soaking my dark hair
 
The buildings are countless, towering above me
A daunting maze to any newcomers to the city
But I know my way around these parts well,  
Especially those poorly lit alleys that most people avoid  
 
I veer off into one, atramentous and foreboding  
And take a moment under an overhanging to pull out a small piece of paper
In the faint lighting I squint to see the address
Back into the icy rain I go, seven blocks east, two north
 
I reach it, thoroughly soaked now, but a cab wasn't worth a couple blocks
I enter my destination, a dimly lit bar in a shady part of town
This was a new one, the old one getting too conspicuous  
Seeing my contact, I walk over and seat myself across him in a unlit booth
 
He had his hood up, as always, a small man with a nervous tick
I guess in this line of work he had a right to be paranoid
"I have a job for you." he says in a hushed tone,
"No shit." I say impatiently, but relax into my booth, open for business
 
His small eyes sparkle under his hood as he looks around
his hand reaches into his bag beside him and he pulls out a picture
I take it as he hands it to me, studying the woman's face on it
Soft features, liquid dark brown eyes and red hair  
 
He gives me some details; name, current location, and pay
But never a reason, I was never meant to be judge, just executioner  
With that I nod, get up from the booth and head back into the night
I walk two blocks to a main street, and take a cab to my target's position
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
AlwaysCaliban
Written by AlwaysCaliban (Caliban)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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schizodude Mawja ScottSF21 DreamingMetrist artkytech
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