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submitted 3 days ago by acannan@programming.dev to c/196
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[-] aeronmelon@lemmy.world 27 points 2 days ago

The hitman groaned inwardly, placed the “fortune” in his pocket, and slowly finished his sweet and sour chicken. No last name, no location, but he knew exactly who they were talking about. The rain outside had let up a little but not completely. He lit a cigarette and started walking towards the west side of town. He had a job to do. He had to go kill a friend.

this post was submitted on 27 Oct 2024
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