‘Will you be able to do it? Remember, this is your only chance.’

‘What a question was that?’ Raghav allowed it to pass.

He forked his tongue out and gleaned his lips, above which sat a pencil thin, almost invisible line of moustache, the colour of mahogany brown.

‘Chance. Wasn’t life itself a chance, a big one at that?’

Rags found his thoughts racing. He stepped back, just in time. He had all the time in the world to slay whatever demons remained of his past; but, all that later. Tonight he coudn’t afford to be lax.

Source: neelwritesblog/flashfiction#04#killer/writingprompt#writephoto#14/10/2016 | neelwritesblog