Tuesday, October 30, 2012
The word this week is whore, and yes, this is fiction.
The molten heat of the sun beat down mercilessly, already high in the sky, and Caroline staggered a little as she exited the smoky darkness of the club. She paused to straighten her skirt and make sure that her blouse was buttoned. She could still feel Klaus' meaty paw kneading her breast, his fetid breath searing her ear; she wondered if that horrid memory would ever fade. The money had certainly been worth it, even if the task had been unpleasant. Smiling, Caroline made her way to the expected rendezvous with Eugene. He was sitting on "their" bench, his eyes focused on the newspaper in front of him, but Caroline knew better. His attention was all for her, and as she neared he patted the bench next to him. She sat down, tucking her skirt under her legs and snuggling close. Eugene put his arm around her.
"How did it go?"
"As planned," Caroline replied primly. "Klaus is out of the picture."
"Wonderful!" Eugene exclaimed. He pulled a thick white envelope out of the breast pocket of the dark suit he always wore, his white shirt temporarily blinding. Caroline gripped the offered envelope, judging the contents, then opened her purse and placed the white envelope next to a manilla envelope of similar thickness.
"Another envelope, eh?" he chuckled, his body leaning more intimately towards hers.
"Yes," Caroline smiled, inviting.
"You are such a whore, Caroline! Always on the clock." Eugene laughed, a low throaty chuckle. "Whoever are you going to kill in your spare time?" He leaned in for a kiss. Her lips parted in response, relaxed, even as she struck. He never felt the stiletto passing between his ribs. He slumped onto her shoulder, head lolling forward. Affectionately, she kissed his cheek. A spreading red stain marred the front of Eugene's white shirt; Caroline buttoned his suit jacket closed.
"You, dear." Caroline stood, adjusted her skirt, and decided to walk to the bank. It was such a lovely day, after all.