PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

   Breaking away from the party that roared on inside, I stand before this elegant figure of a woman; the way her golden hair flowed in the wind, as her eyes looked at me with seduction.  Her lips were full, red, and slightly forming a smile, her body was a cream color; and she wore it well.  Her shimmering black dress flowed nicely, hugging every curve of her body; though it looked like something one might wear to a funeral, it still made her look good enough to almost forget why I am here.



    As I walked closer to her in my Armani suit, styled black (of course), wearing no form of tie, with a dull black vest, and black under shirt.  I gazed deeply into her lustful eyes... or maybe it was a different emotion; I couldn't tell, nor care anymore.



    "So, why have you followed me out here; to this oh so empty retreat?"  She asked me finally.



    "Parties aren't my thing milady, never have been one to socialize."



    "Well, your expensive suit says different, but I suppose you aren't here with me right now to talk about how you get paid so handsomely." She said, walking close to me, putting her arms around my neck, "you're here to show me how you get paid, aren't you?"



     "Time will tell ma'm, time will tell." I said, easing my guard, wrapping my arms around her waist slightly. Holding her a little closer to me, as she rested her face against my neck softly, inhaling slowly.



     "You smell good, sir." She said after sniffing me.  I never understood that; every women I've met in my life has said that, I may wash and cologne.  But my cologne is not what I have the pleasure of inhaling; I only smell the death that follows me.  Such an intoxicating scent on my senses; I guess I will never understand.



     Pressing my gun tightly against her rib cage, I squeeze the trigger; the silencer on it covers up the sound of the gun firing.  I pressed my hand against her mouth gently, muffling any noises she might make; which she never did.  I held her with my free arm as she passed away slowly, as she gazed into my eyes; caressing my face softly with her bloody hand... this death will be with me for a while.



    After exiting the building, I began the long walk home.  It felt like her presence was following me; through the dark, secluded alley - in which the garbage seemed to gather from all over town, including the homeless, who I felt were robbed of their lives 0 to the bright, glowing, neon lights of main street; furnished with at least two casinos on every block, with liquor stores every two; I just could shake the feeling that I was being watched.



    Either by the dead or a stalker from the party; it didn't matter.  I sought out what I was hired to do; and that was that.  No real morals or conscience needed for this job... but why did that last assignment bother me so? I need to get a cat.



    Entering the complex in which I lived, after punching in the building code for entry; tight security meant happy renters, I began the inevitable walk to my apartment. Unlocking the dead bolt, and switching on the lights, I closed the door behind me to my one bedroom pad.  Never really needed a lot of space to myself, never really enjoyed the extra space.



    Placing my gun on the table, I noticed the answering machine blinking; must be my employer.  



    "Well, I'm in no hurry," I said to myself. "I'll get it in the morning," I continued to say as I hung up my over coat in the closet.  I've always hated suits, I feel so restricted, I didn't wear it long after I got inside.



    Hanging up the rest of the suit in the closet, I walked into the bathroom: a hot shower awaited me before my night was through.  Trying to wash away the sent of death I've collected over the years always made me feel better.  Even though I knew the next day would bring more death to this already dying world.  I need a new job.



    After having finish with my "daily ritual" I proceeded to head for the sack.  My nice, comfy, lonely bed awaited my return; the sheets nice and neat, the comforter resting upon them like I was about to.  Slowly sliding myself into bed, cuddling with an extra pillow I could never bring myself to get rid of; even though I never seemed to need it really.  I need a new life.