I looked down at the tiny cars way down below. They were so far away, they almost looked like toy cars. I sighed and turned back into the room hundreds of floors above.
“You sure you want to do this?”
The man opposite me nodded solemnly. He was down on one knee, looking at me with pleading eyes.
“I can’t do this no more.”
I stared into his sea green eyes, wishing I could tell him not to do this, telling him to go back home to his wife and pretend like nothing had happened.
Slowly, I raised my right arm and pointed the gun somewhere between those eyes. There was no way I could let him do that and he knew it.
Silently, the bullet tore threw his body.
When I turned back to the window to look down, the two cars were gone.
Sunday Photo Fiction, October 22nd 2017