This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 42; the forty-second edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "COLOR"
The place would be thronging with people in some time. Zoeb knew it well. He smacked his lips in anticipation. The larger the crowd, the bigger the body count. The chances of missing your shots also reduced significantly with a larger number of potential targets.
He stayed put behind the bushes. There were others like him around, but he hoped no one else would come calling to share space. For hunters, sharing perches was as bad as sharing spoils.
A minute later, a lone young lady came walking out of the building lobby, dressed in executive formals, all decked up, leather bag in tow. She seemed to be looking around suspiciously, as if she was expecting something to happen any moment. Zoeb wasn't surprised.
She was now just a few metres away from his den. He couldn't miss from here.
He felt his weapon again. It felt awesome. A sniper rifle. Brand new, smooth, well-finished.
And most importantly....fully loaded.
He pulled it out, trained it on his target, watched through the telescopic sight, and caught the moving image of the lady at the centre of the cross-hairs.
And then, when he was sure that she was a goner, he pulled the trigger.
She clutched her soaking-wet, blood-red blouse.
"YOU DIRTY PIG!!! I'LL TELL YOUR MOM ABOUT THIS!!!"
"BURA NA MAANO, HOLI HAI!!!", he screamed, and scampered off deep into the garden.
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