For the past days, I had been keeping track of the man. Chestnut hair, high nose, and the faint trace of a Swedish accent. The man had a younger brother with green chartreuse eyes who was quite the oddball. Every weekend, the man would put grocery money in his satchel before heading out to the market. He made stops at the poultry stand, eventually making his way to the fruits and vegetables. For the man had a certain charm to him, his presence alone caused heads to turn. Women fawned over him but the man was oblivious to it. After getting the groceries, he would head home only to leave for work once again.

The man would get off of work at the Inkworth publishing company and head straight to the local pub while I discreetly followed him. Call it creepy but I would consider it a job. The bartender handed the man a mixed concoction followed by the sound of ice hitting against the glass as the man swirled the amber liquid in his cup around humming a familiar tune. It was music to my ears as I sat a good distance away, humming it under my breath. The grandfather clock ticked, the small hand getting dangerously close to 12. By this time, the man had already downed 2 glasses of whiskey signaling for another glass.

It was time.

But how would I do it?

What’s something that would distract him for as long as necessary? I was running out of time, my fingers fumbled around my pocket for the little packet. That was when my hand traced the outline of a leather wallet. The man had dropped it a few days ago and I still had it in my possession. Shrinking further into the booth, I recalled seeing a slip of paper with a number on it. I took out my phone and tapped in the digits before hitting the call button. The man’s ringtone sounded as he got up from his seat to excuse himself for the unknown call, leaving his drink unattended.

Once he was out of view, I emerged from my spot with my empty glass and approached the counter. I asked the bartender for another glass of water and while he had his back turned, I slipped the content of the packet into the man’s drink. A smile spread across my face as I gladly accepted the cold water and saw that the man was heading back to his seat. As I passed by, I said “sleep well” which was drowned out by the loud sound of the rings from the grandfather clock hitting 12 as the man downed the liquid.

It didn’t take long to hear a cry coming from the bartender followed by the thudding of a body hitting the floor. I didn’t care to check, I just stared back at my reflection in the water, those green eyes staring right back at me.