He stared up at the grey building. Some of the windows were lit, but they did nothing to cheer him up. Craning his neck, he could see the sky above, an even darker shade of grey than the building. His fingers gripped the umbrella tighter. He hoped he wouldn’t be needing it later. He didn’t want his new suit to be ruined.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the building. The receptionist took his name with a blank nod, then gave him directions to the room.
It was only on the first floor, but he preferred to take the elevator.
Minutes later, he knocked on the door, then took a step back. He heard a faint “come in” and carefully pushed down the door handle.
Without looking at the man at the desk, he swiftly closed the door again, grabbed one of the chairs and pushed it under the handle.
The man at the desk stared at him as he wordlessly pulled out his gun.
“It wasn’t us,” he said, his eyes locked on the muzzle. “None of us snitched.”
The man took a step closer to him, keeping the gun firmly trained on the other man’s head.
“Don’t lie to me,” he said in a cold voice. “We have the videotapes.”
Sweat broke out on the other man’s forehead, but he did not reply.
The man with the gun nodded slowly. “I thought so.”
Then he pulled the trigger.
When he left the building, it was pouring down with rain, but he kept the umbrella uselessly by his side.
© 2017
Image from free photo stock pixabay.com
FELICIA HEILGENDORFF 
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