The drums kept beating.
Her muscles over-heated from the excitement of the last hour begged re-acquaintance with Cold February.
So glad sometimes to live in the tundra. The bristle of the insides would otherwise not have computed.
She left the entourage for hermitude she occasionally inhaled when life got too asthmatic.
Placing herself non-strategically on a street corner, she let the breeze in. A cab driver, vulturing on wayward inebriated clubbers, ready to head home too early on a Saturday night, nervously flirted with her attention.
She negated a nod.
“Not yet pal, the night is young, and I am having more fun then I thought I would.”
Some smokers pass by and fracture the new years resolution.
Unhinging the cleavage: “You boys got a smoke for me?”
A thought creeps….its been 24 hours…
So easily it’s forgotten that she put a silencer on this weapon seven months ago, why should it make a noise now.
But its still good for the kill, and it will.
They may be wondering where she is.
Takes a picture instead.