The Weekday One Hundred

I snaked through the bustling zoo crowd, my target in view. The old man was where I needed him. Alone and unaware.

I caught a lone tiger in my periphery, stalking through its enclosure. I grinned, enjoying the comparison. Except I had prey, and I was going to kill.

Being underestimated was getting tiresome.

I closed within ten yards, my hand on my revolver, my heart pounding. Steps away, I saw the old man bend over, saw him pick up a young boy.

I brushed by the pair and kept going.

Maybe the boss was right. Maybe I was soft.