Wind blustered mercilessly in my direction, all the while spitting cold rain into my face. The city seemed sinister the buildings appeared to bend over to look down on the pedestrians below. Or maybe I’m just not used to urban life. The seagulls flew differently, all in similar bearing, frantically disorganised unlike the usual aerodynamic formation, they were emitting a chorus of panicked squawks; much like a child running from an imaginary monster, what could be the reason to such an absurd anomaly in flight pattern?
I broke from my pondering and found that I had come to a halt; I spun around sharply, eyes wide.
“Nothing...” I spoke aloud, as if to reassure myself. Noticing my breath was now heavy and audible; I exhaled slowly and continued to make my way home.
I stood at the doorstep, fiddling inside the depths of my pockets for my keys. Instinctively, my eyes darted to search my surroundings, despite my conscious soothing. Nothing. Not a soul. After a meaningful debate between my not-so-superstitious self and my terrified for my safety self I resolved to take a healthy nap. The wind blew the nearby tree branches into my window repeatedly. The tapping formed a rhythmic pattern. Tap, tap, tap; the beat was mind-numbingly soothing. I felt sleep pull at the very threads of my consciousness. “I’ll be fine.” I muttered into my pillow as I curled up, feet under the blanket. Just in case.
Again something I did for school. I swear I never write unless I have to.
“Okay, Marcia. Explain to me why you stabbed the man.” Marlin spoke in a disappointed tone to emphasise the message sent by the way his palm was firmly held to his face.
“Well we need him dead don’t we? Oh Marlin pal, you still ask the silliest questions.” She replied brightly and triumphantly a satisfied grin on her face. “I think we finally got the job done without a hitch!”
“Maybe, but didn’t you poison his coffee so we wouldn’t have to justify the pool of blood at his desk?” Disbelief was prominent in his voice.
“Yes but clearly he got the wrong one; he didn’t drop dead when he drank it!” Marcia giggled almost skipping around with glee. “Hey let’s loot the place, we’re not getting paid enough.” She continued to scuttle around the room, picking up anything shiny; much like a hyperactive magpie. Marlin almost smiled at the thought, momentarily forgetting his speech at the highly amusing scene before him.
“Okay fine Mari, but I think you left out something important-”
“Oh look a watch!”
“Marcia!”
In English, we had to do a roleplay of two incredibly incompetent assassins, Marcia and Marlin. I really liked what we did so I actually carried on writing for it. Maybe I do write for pleasure after all. Marcia being like I said, a "hyperactive magpie" and Marlin being a condescending twat.
